Jasper County Democrat, Volume 12, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 July 1909 — WAS IT DOROTHY? [ARTICLE]

WAS IT DOROTHY?

"Isn’t he a fool?” said Dorothy Martin. “And is he<really v so superstitious about breaking the promise that that unreasonable virago of a wife exacted from him?” “Unquestionably he Is,” said Frank Worrall. “I suppose be actually believes that my Aunt Hephslbah would haunt him if he married again without her express permission. For a man of ordinary Intelligence Uncle Buttonball Is superstitious.” “How?” queried Dorothy. “Oh, he sees winding sheets In the candle and believes there will be a death In the family If a dog chances to howl under the window.” “Frank,” hesitatingly began Dorothy, “what sort of woman was your Annt Hephslbah? Yon know I never saw her. She died before I came to Hopton to live.” “A little, fat woman, with spectacles and a brown fore top, who always wore brown gingham and talked through her nose. I forgot, though, she had a monstrosity of a cap, with a frill two inches wide ail around it” “Not at all like Paulina Pepper,” said Dorothy. “And Paulina really likes Mr. Buttonball. and she needs a borne, poor thing! Not to speak of Mr. Buttonball’s evident admiration for Paulina! It would certainly be a match if “If it wasn’t for the departed saint,” said Frank, with an Irreverent imitation of his Uncle Buttonball’s peculiar Intonation when speaking of his departed wife. “Poor Paulina!” said Dorothy. “And poor Uucle Buttonball!” echoed Frank Worrall. *••••** “Past 11 o’clock,” said Uncle Buttonball, looking up -at the clock over the rims of his silver spectacles. “Well, 1 hadn’t an idea it was so late. And snowing and blowing like all possessed, and the wind howling down the chimney fit to set a man’s teeth, on edge! Just such a night as poor Hepbsibah died four years ago, and—bless me,” with a slight cold shiver down his spinal column, “if it ain’t the 20th of November, the identical anniversary of the sad event! Poor Hephsy!” folding his hands and looking thoughtfully into the fire. • And then Mr. Buttonball fell into a doze or a reverie—he never could be quite certain which—from which he was aroused by the old kitchen clock striking 12 - - - - -- “Midnight! It ain't possible!” cried Mr. Buttonball, chilly, uncomfortable and superstitious. “And the fire eenamost out. I guess I’ll rake it up and go to bed.” But as lie rose with a sort of rheumatic stiffness from his chair the door leading from the buttery creaked, a slow, heavy footstep sounded on the floor, and, looking around with startled and dilated eyes, Mr. Buttonball beheld—the departed Hephslbah! “Benedict!” spoke out the quavering and nasal voice. “Benedict! Benedict!” ♦ “W-w-well, my dear,” stuttered Mr. Buttonball, holding tightly to the arms of his chair lest his teeth should chatter him off from it.

“I have brought a message from the other world, Benedict,” solemnly uttered the presence. “You want to marry again!” “N-not if you object to it, my dear,” faltered the shaking widower. “I—l—that is”“Peace! Disturb not the voices of a higher sphere.” “No, my dear, I won’t,” said the submissive husband. “Peace. I say, and listen: You are absolved from your promise to contract no second marriage. You are a free agent. My eyes are opened now to many things and among them the folly of my earthly jealousies. Go. marry whom you will, and my blessing rest upon your bride. The word Is spoken: the oracle Is closed.” Slowly the brown ginghamed form retreated backward, with gleaming spectacles and uplifted finger, through the buttery door into the back kitchen, while Uncle Buttonball sat staring and transfixed with an agony of superstitions terror. *******

“He has really asked yon to marry him, Paulina?” “Yes, really,” said Paulina Pepper, her blooming face all smiles and dim pies. “He’s a very nice old man—l mean middle aged gentleman,” said Dorothy Martin demurelyj “But I thought he had determined never to marry again.” “Ob, that’s all settled!” cried Paulina, looking complacently down at the red shine of her garnet engagement ring. “He thinks he has had a vision—that his departed wife appeared to him and released him from his vows.” “Dear me!” sakl Dorothy. “How very stranger “Of course the dear fellow must have been asleep and dreaming, though—don’t you thllik so?” V “Undoubtedly,” said Dorothy. "For—what are you laughing at, ffear?” Pnnlina Pepper broke off to say. “Nothing, nothing, only it seems sc ridiculous that in this age of the worl<* people can believe in ghosts!” cried Dorothy, giving way to a hearty peal jof laughter as she caught up her em jbroiderv and hurried out of the room Frank Worrall followed her. “Dorothy." said he. “it was you!” “What do you mean?” “The ghost.” f “Prove It If you can!” cried Dorothy aauclly. And that was all she would *«er admit. *