Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 5, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 1 August 1874 — Page 2

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THE MAIL A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE

A STERLING OLD POEM.

Who shall judge man from his manners?

Thpr iGoa,wii IXVCS

,• of

But

jiei 4MBi in the »w«

Doctor Jahnken's Story.

BY ANNE L. FORCELLE.

It a quiet, pleasant place where I am now. I am here for my health, partly, and partly to assist In caring fertile poor aflllcted people whoee home it is. The house is a large one, and there are many inmates. It is a queer life, among so many maniacs, but I feel it my duty to Htav and care for them. They could not get along without me. "There's Doctor Jahnkeu," they say to each other, whenover I and my pet patient take a little walk around the grounds, (we always go arm-in-arm, tor Williams imagine*! that it is I who am insane, and that I am liable to become unmanageable at any time,) "our good little doctor," and then I bow and smile, and pass by. pitying the poor creature# with all my heart.

Once or twice I have thought of leaving here, but the superintendent is so unrent to have me way and assist him abeut his duties, that I have neexly given it up. If Gertrude—my head throbs strangely when I think of her—were alive, 1 would go, bat as it is, I feel that It is better for me to stay.

It is queer what mistakes they make here. This morning, I was again forced to smile at the stupidity of an attendant —one who ought to have known better. I was silting bv my table, writing busily —I write a great deal, and the superintendent takes a great interest in my reports concerning the patients,—when a number of visitors came in, and as the attendant introduced them to me, I heard him saying in a low voice, "You wouldn't think it, but he's the wildest patient we have, at times,—dangejoua— one of the sulciaals, you know.,r It was decidedly unpleasant, but the fellow meant no harm, and so I turned back to mv writing without correcting him. lie would have felt badly to have his mistake rectified before strangers, and I let It pass. It was queer, but, as they passed on, one of them—a slender young girl —raised her veil and looked back at me over her shoulder it was Gertrude's fiioe which she uncovered, and I saw there permission to write the story which I have kept a secret so long.

I would have followed ner, but as I started to my feet, the old cloud came over me, ana for awhile I knew nothliur. When I came l«ck to myself, she was gone but I, knowing that it is her wish that I should write, hasten to do no. I have not long to live, and I cannot die without ft. Hug that I have done all which she wonid have me do. It is a long story, but for her sake, I will write it all.

I was, in the beginning, nobody child. Where or when I was norn I never kr w, I only know that I awoke one day tiuiii what seemed to have been a confused dream of wretchedness and i»i- rv, and found myself in a large, eJ i:i,"airv room, with a great many narrow beds therein, with a dull, aching pain all over me, and a pair of kind brown eyes looking into mine, .t&oae brown eyes drew daw of unreality which

had tiWi!-led m.-, !"m try to talk, gold fc.Hi*! vou u. f*iUI

went rota* Lltll

—tlx 1 —tlM' 1

had

try»

ipip

»LD W-'

head in my pillow and

feeling*—

Hailn tM Cta ao uwnr.

There are #t

r»f cvtal nectar

Ever Howl

«,

•'I, St, ...-if.

:U. I

T|V.\ !l-

TJvere ar» ?ttK* There u« le There

mod t»y," and then ih- brown ey®» n, .nid I 1 qmetly, uyitig to vliOl •». bv little It came lm.-k to me— i, wicked ft 't*n otnan who lemyshe:! s. an i. iofmtowj ithy ee I had -*ied my home rri«mb y** nf wretcn«swhc i«...led tii''!!i*v!vf*for tli' ir iiN

.'inn mv miserable liu«

a: 1 lastly," tiM uild, agonbwd in

•Kw lLd jungly,b_opo-

1, -o the diwy «cattld-

i. 1 K«I \, t' ,!.••! in Stmt reek-

toi'K

li ,• iv irW I had

tMHHIUMi.

I lay and thought of the* thtaapi for

hours, but I iwv spoke a

t" 1 'Vkindbi»*n *7®* a

.t hand ctij -ed 1. 1.1,.. .• tbeii

11 j.ednrtt wUere 1 v. a-. g*1}"'

You!" Mfcid Do i-

bed aloud with puro thank

Line

•that he neveir

•Irons uuot,. Doctor Jahi

hand In fa

_JW»

the

1 oi-eyad tiat narrow

fcertlent,

How 1 lay ther

.. know that 3, wi-eyed rr^»v ihe aoll 1'hi.-. I did not !r 1 I to and 1 ••red

bed. 1 I every the «oft»w

i' •'i vft-1' Pfte. and

1 Bi 'T't enda

fin

.» who

nee 'v

en U»d

was hfai rauue

and ritting

Miv •. t. trek

(tend to una

hat I felt, lor th

lie.

K»

at Into the op_

_rew mpkUy lifter, ami «i«£ t^Sing mjotifeho

h«pit

Doctor

was

u»e

H*e miciM rtwwW Www. .Oil

i',' ..J ',-^t "j. UrV-'

»l.-:i.OF .'• .r. ••."! Mt.M-r 'V'»* CUtbi: II: ,_.. i' I':- .Ml la a man's ennobling nam*

no hope that bey

pm.j'

hill tittUon*,

Thereu:l 7 God, who ooua 0 Lortnud nr For to Htm

ill. I me,

Area# peLi-d'--. ft. Tolling hand* alone are builders

Of a t»:111 -"Mfei- i11' 1

Titled l»/-t Fedai'1 ••u"' 5 By theauw-UruX uUi

IJvlna only ton While the poor ma lift*

'96«

outraged (Mlom

Vainly lltto tt» fe«ble volctv

Truth and justice are eternal. Born with aud light

Whllr U.. itouny H»ht. Uod, wli"~ world-wide il»«liifl#S BonnUicn' '"v» to you a*a »«, Llnbsopp* ion with lta title*

v«. From

Ith

left

for*

XtwMt ngt whol- bci a&a when he was go

llffill

1 1

irled my

Those were happy days for me in that house. I grew stronger and better, surrounded as I was by pleasant, kindiv influences alone. Before long I grew to love the Doctor* young wife almoat fts well d# I did tcf buHbuiid, &uu when, after a year or so, a little flowcrlhced child came to thom, I fairly worshipped it and as the wee Gertrude grew older, "burrer Noel" was soarcoly second in her heart to her ffctlier and mother.

As the years went by, devoted im self to study, for it was my ambition to be a physician, like the man 1 loved. It seemed to me then, and it does now, that a man can bo of more real lenefit to his fellow-beings in that profession than in anv other, and with so jwrffect a model beiiire mo, Fhoped to succeed well in that which I had cVosen as my lifework.

Meanwhile the little Gertrude grew from babyhood to childhood, and every minute which I could spare from my books was devoted to her. She was a strange child always—so ftragile and delicate that it seetned as though she were more shadow than substance, and endowed with almost unearthly beauty. She was shy and silent always before

strangers, but with me she talked freely, conflain

I never tired of watching her fhee it was the one perfect pleasure of my Ufa to have her near me and even when the cruel twi«ting pain—which visited my poor sfc--ciders at Umoa-waa wringing and torturing me almost past endurance, the touch of ner gentlo hands, the sight of her *uttful flwe, made Infinitely ir^ br autiful by the almost ang«He p, in her eyes, would bring me 1* »•$ and quiet. I used to think 1oonld bear the pain forever, if she could only be near me.

Poor N"*!" ahe would say, "I would bear It for v. 1 If I couldand I would tn for her sake, to be patient and enit bravely. Gentle and loving as ah. however, not a day passed that «!. did not wound me cruell ah. never knew It.

Mm.v my return, I knew that my love for ireitrude Jahnken was not the l^ve of

brother for

hoiv

,'^ V) him onleur he told me 1 it

not ape Iwf O.

faOWGTAT.

1 1 I:

bent 01»r

*•—ly.

», i, "Ym ire

u^d, Bjr—I ycm*»i',?r

ike3ua! w^an*! T, f~. (i

,.h •ad niaifl'

but fo

4 «-^h 4 t-!r awY'^'V'^'14,^1™

J*hnlfcnK

cU L^j a little dog, contentI and happy, although my

i' were

cruelly twist-

if shape, and there

would

ever he straight, again-1 I

never ^peablM about what

was to booome of me. 1 never realised that I could not

always he a

!,i,w

paHent in the

hospital until one day Doctor Jahnken took mo in hi* lap, and told ate that I wan discharged, and asked me where

TXougtrtof the old wretchedness and misery, and,

1, the thought was

that I was, more than death. Don't send ine back! I led, clinging to him. "U n.e stay with you, I work for you—I will do any-**-insr, only let ine stay and ete were team in the kind evea that smiled down at meT

You shall,H he said and that night I slept in Doctor Jahpken's home, and a blueeved young airl—DoctorJahnken's wlfo—kisscd me goodnight. "Poor little child!" she whispered to her husband. "lie has a Raphael face. We will make Mm happy. Karl there is room for him here."

to me many of her childish

ideas and pussies for she was singularly mature and womanly, and had none of the usual light, careless thoughtlessness of a little child.

ana oiwn wv «,m mv and

My twisted shoulders troubled her greatly, and often, as I sat with my books, sho would come behind ine and touch them pityingly with her little hands.

Poor Noel!" she would say, softly, and then she would come and kiss me. "I love you, and so does mamma and papa, and when you die, you will be a straight angel, Noel and then she would perch herself beside me, and watch me with that solemn look in her great blue eyes, which ahe had, at timos, even when a wee baby.

Howl loved that child}—I would have given my life for her

any

time

and

nothing gave me ao much pleasure as to be near her, to see her

beautiful face,

and hold her little bands in mine, while I told her marvellous stories or sang her to sleep in the twilight.

After years of study, I was sent abroad to Germany, and when I came back— after three years* absence—I found many changes In our quiet home. The gentle mistress of the house had gone, ana that changed everything. Karl Jahnken was no longer the cheerful, bright-faced man he had been during her lifetime his great sorrow had settled on him like a cloud, and it never lifted nor grew less heavy until the day of his death.

And Gertrude—In those three years ahe had changed from a girl to a woman, and I could scarcely believe at first that she waa the child I had petted so short a time before. Sho was

woman now,

and a wondronsly lovely one but she was child-like and innocent at heart as ever, and her love for "Brother Noel" had diminished not at all. Itaeemedaa though ahe divided the love she had given her mother between me and her father, in addition to that which had ticen bestowed ton us before.

idwfcir. The almost

worship 1 had felt for her when a child grown with her growth, until it had moa p, "vrwhelming passion, such as oitw feels it "nee in a 11 feu me, »nd y«tl

knew

,t it wis worse tlian

•*IH. I 'inijrt content to 1

on a

mortal

her old. ehildish way, and rested

ind Ugbtly ©a my sboulder. what

Iret

T, WU«

hatred that piling

I of my

a fi ri #, burniag fc touch roused within me—hatred of

ftti, eraeily aa I sttflEsred tlnin, liters

*rly andljcMB® a day when all former suffering

think «w it n, mv wasnothlng compared to that which swf-

u- k-»d «,

on bnsintne f^r

Mow I lived through those days I know not but for Gertrude's sake, I never betrayed what I suiTored 5 It wotild only pain her, atid could do no good and I would have dlud rather than have caused her one moment's trouble or uuhsppiness.

It fat wonderful how much one can endure and yet live 1—how much our poor.

Eold

erlshable bodies can bear and yet still our spirits prisoners I I plungod Into work with feverish eagerness I studied nights and days also, and astonished everybody with my wonderful enand ambition. I secretly made a 1, leaving all my worldly possession# to Gertrude, and then devoted myself steadily to the accumulation of wealth, snd to rising In my profession. In the interval before Gertrude's marshort

•e

Nvw *..,4ya, and nolU-S

mote. Heaix-n h.4 timed i.-r v.. v,Ty beautiful precious ^. 1.. -1 ed

ane

was ii

ordinary women as heaven above mtth, and 1-1 was a poor, twisted, d«

ghe never knew how I woffcml ah« a vast difrerence.

r., not knew that the pain whfck brought -f sympathy to her eyes was notb

log irte Rhe

gc*A1H

pate

she

otmiparisoa to the pain she gai

:, time she called me "brother knew when she came behind

TERRE TTATJTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

THK WMITK ARMS WKBK FI.UNQ OUT TO MH IN A(KJFL/.KD APPEAR."

I noeded rest, and had just returned, bringing with mo sortie pretty trifles for Gertrude, and feeling as though I had been away years instead of weeks. I remember just how impatiently I walked down the narrow path to the door, hoping to see Gertrude's faeo to welcome me at the window, and when I entered, I waited a moment in the hall, hoping she woukl come and meet me, but she did not.

I heard hor touching the piuno softly, in the parlor, and went and stood by the door, which wan ajar, listening to her as she played. ft was a simple, plaintive melody which sho had chosen,^heart-breaking in its mournlul tenderness it was a ifcvorite of mine, and I fancied that she was thinking of me as she played.

Gettrudo," I called, as the music coasetl, and then, pushing tlie door open further, I looked in. 8I10 had risen as I spoke, and. stood resting one liant^lightly on the piano, her perfect fhee turned toward me, with a glad surprise shining in her eyes, her white dress falling around her in cloudlike folds, and her fair hair floating over her shoulders.

Brother Noel," she said, coming toward ine in her light, swift way ana then I saw she was not alone —a man, tall and handsome, but with a hard, cruel ldok in his bold, black eyes, stood beside her, and seeing him, 1 turned rudely away, before Gertrude could reach me,

went

up to my own room. I

khS woulTwme behind me and I well then what was coming, and once sno wouiu come alone 1

forget

like a weak woman. The day died slowly uvay, and the

gray twilight came—then darkness but still I sat by the -window, with my aching head pressed against tho cool glass, and not until I heard alight step outside mv door did I move, or, in fact, realize wficrc I was.

Noel," said Gertrude's voice, "are you ill?

May

I come in?"

"I am not ill," I answered "but oomeand she came in and knelt down beside me, in the darkness, taking my face between her hands as she spoke.

I am afraid vou thought I was not glad to see you,r' she said. "I did not mean to seem so, brother Noel, ana I would have come to you before if I could but I have come now. You are not angry with me, Noel?"

No," I answered "not angry with you, Gertrude, eveT.*' And I have something to tell you," she said, speaking even more softly than before. "Vou must not laugh at me, and you must wish me joy, Nool." I knew what was coming now, and I clenched my bauds tightly together, and tried to steady myself to bear it. "I am going to be married, dear, to him whom you saw with me. I have known him for along time, but he has been travelling since vou came homo, and has just returned. 'We are to live in this very house, and I shall with you and father and take care of you always. Are you not going to wish me joy, Noel?"

I am glad you are happy," a

said I,

you are

tack my despair, and speaking j. "God bless you

crushing Back my des naturally as I couli alwavs, Gertrude," and then sho drew me down to her, and kissed me. "It will make no difference between u«," she said, carnestlj'. "We shall be just the same, and you will always be mv dear brother remember that.

•n, and so thoroughly

did ,I school myself, that when thoday came that tny darling was his wife, I wished her joy, and bade her good-bve su rtie started on her short wedding tourney, without betraying In any way if secret of my heart.

It will make no dlflferenoe between us." she had said, when she had told ine "T». «... hnl wlt«M IBHA

She was as gentle and loving as ever, but ahe had r«o more time now to be with me as she used to be, and I missed ber greatly. Her husband demanded all her time and attention, and fretted and complained

mjr

waak, miserable sel£ and of my »g'y

mhwhapen body.

prt-

Doctor

So, 1

Jahnken (we

called the "Id

it mad•righter,

doctor,**

and "the

vmtnj (iii-tof,** ti-w,) and partly twvtase

sho was not always ai

liberty to attend to liim. He was a selfish, domineering man, and I soon saw that he would never utake his young wife happy bat she loved him, and would

not

allow even her fkther to speak

of his foult*. And

aha

grew

paler and

thinner every day, and there eaine a tired look In her eyes, whieh mado my heart ache for her. You anirulah one feels when his dearest on Mrth Is taken from him by the hand of death, but it

nothing to the agony one

when he sees tfie woman heWea

il.f

"Si

given to another who makes her miserable, an^aees her daily wearing her life out in Ids thankless service, and prow(ng old before hor time. After ft little babv came to them—a sickly child, who onlv Jived to die and then, when Gertrude—looking more like a shadow than gver—was able once more to leave her room, her ftithcr suddenly sickcncd, and before we realised what might happen, he left us and joined his wile, who was waiting for him "across the river."

After that, I went abroad again, and staved four years. I wandered hither ancl thither, earnestly engaged in perfecting myself In

Bho

knew

my manliness, and wept

profession, and try

ing to forget everything but tho work which I had chosen. I heard fVom Gertrnde at long Intervals she sent me short letters, written ut odd momenta, and from them I judged that she was happier than she had been. Two other children had been barn to thein, and hor letters were chiefly filled with descriptions of them and their pretty ways but after a time her letters grew less frequent, and, I thinking

hud grown away from me, tried

to be thankful that she was happy, and to reconcile myself to being forgotten. It was perhaps better, I thought she did not need me, and I would never go back again her husband and children were all to her. and it would be better if our ways should bo thereafter separate. A tine position was offered meat Frankfort, and I decided to make that my home. If I bad

A careless word from an English friend of mine, who passed through Frankfort at the time, suddenly changed all my plans. He was a rollicking, good-natur-ed fellow, to whom I had taken quite a liking and on my inviting him to stay with me during hiff sojourn in the city, he gratefully accepted the invitation. He was gay and talkative, and brought mo a large budget of home news but not vintil lie was on the eve «f departure did he approach the subject of which I most longed to hear him speak, and then he said only a few words. "J suppose you hear from vour sister Gertrude," he said. "It was a shame to let her marry that fellow, Jahnken! He drinks and raises the very whon he's in liquor, and she's not long for this world anyway."

I broke all my engagements. I made my preparations to go back with almcwt feverish haste, and not until I was fiurlv started on my homeward journey did I feel one moment's peace or quiet.

I shall never forget how I felt when I came in sight of the old house again. Outwardlv, it was unchanged, and, for a momont 1 forgot that my beloved-mas-ter and his gentlo wife were no more thoro, and entered in the old way, without announcing my arrival in any way. (as I had boon accustomed to do,) and went straight to the little wing-room where Gertrude had been wont to sit most frequently with her sewing for I felt that I should ilnd her there.

Kven In that first moment of our meeting, my heart sank as I saw the cruel change which had been wrought in her during those short four ypars. Sho was beautiful still, but it was a beauty not of earth, but heaven and oven as she clasped my hand, she trembled, and would have fUlloti from sheer weakness, had I not supported her, "I am so glad you have come!" she said, in a faint, 'gasping way, mournfully different from the low, even tones ot old. "I could not bear to bo without seeing you, Noel, and I did not want to send for you. You will not leave me again, Noel, until She was leaning back In her chair now, white and breathless, and I, looking at her, forgot everything but the great love I bore h*r, and for once, losing my sclfoontrol, (which I had so rigidly maintained ibr years,) I told her, holding her poor hands In. inJnPj bow dear sho was to mo.

She dltl not move away from nits she did not check moor rebuke mo she did not even seem surprised she was too for aljov© earthly things for that. Sho sat qulfttlv, with her head resting on the high chair-back, and her eyes closed but when at last, and by her immovability and silence, I ceased my wild words, she roused herself and looked at

Poor Noel!" she said, taking my face between her hands In tho olu, girlish way, and bending over me with the angelic pitv of old in her eyes. Have you. then, suffered more than I know ?—and forme? lam sorry for you. dear, but we will not talk of this agala. It can make no difference now, and It Is only for a little while that I shall be here. Do not let it trouble you,my brother and I was made stronger and better by hor words.

Dav after dav sho grew weaker. Patient and uncomplaining she was always, and I could hardly realise that she was ill, she seemed so bright and cheerfhl and when a matter of business called me outside the city for a day or two. I went, unwillingly, Indeed, but without a thought there was danger near at hand. 8he had seemed bettcr and brighter for a day or two, and had insisted that I should not stay at home, and when, at the door, I turned and looked back, she smiled and nodded her head at me, gay* ly. "Good-bye," she said, "good-bye, brother Noel come back soon, and these were the last words I ever heard her speak. When I eame back the doox was draped with crape, and the chair by the window was empty.

was stupefied with grief ng "you must oome to and, with some long, 00 strike my heart. 11 to then, you know 1. and t, to quilt 1 alone she demanded

at first, and sat do blanjiJy around, whet| she had

IcsstU

went nbout their duties with] forgive me!—but

heavy mist, which driited In from the sea, turned to adrencliingrain, the wind blew fiercely along tho almost deserted streets, and still wandered on, untiL by degrees, I came back to myself, and thought, for the first time, of the paper which I still held clenched in my hand then I stepped into a doorway, sheltered from the storm, and read by the light of the hall-lamp, shining through the side-lights, the few words which were the last she ever wrote.

romisc which I was now forced to fulSlowly, reverently, I unclasped tho folded hands, and turned down the loose, white garment which sho wore, down from her quiet breast. Even then, I shuddered at what I was about to do and waited for a moment, struggling with mvself for strength to perform the duty wfiich tho dead required of me.

Sfio had been strange and fanciful aways nervously timid, and apt to entertain morbid Ideas at tixies, and, even in her clieerftil home, this predisposition on her part could never be wholb

hushed, careful footsteps, as staling on my knees beside her, but, though they feared to disturb oven as I dia so, her last words came the dead. back to me: "Ifyou ever loved me, do

How long I sat in that de- not forget your promise. I have faith in irtiwl vooih lrnAW nnt it vnut* anH u'flit 1#ha(flVPf

aught knew but, at last, I jNMMied myself and went out. At the foot of the stairs I met th« djHflrwl'fe quiet, pleasant girl, to whom Gertrude bad taken quite a fancy. Her eyes were swollen with woeping, and her voiee was husky and broken. "My mistress, wrote this just before sho died," she said, giving me a folded slip of paper. '•8fee bade mo give iv to you when you came, and 1 promised her tliat I would."

Thank ydu," I said, tak ing it taedhanically."Is that ail?"

Unless you would wish to see her, sir. She is lying iu the last room, and I thought, burial tat in very earl}1 yoy llko to go up t"

Not now," I answered her, almost harshly, and then, without a thought whither I was going, went out into tho deepening twilight, blinded and almost stunned by my great grief, aud walked restlessly onward, not caring whither my feet might lead me. The

Noel," the little note said, ''something is coming to me, and I tnink it is death. If yon over loved me, do not forget your promise. 1 have faith in your word, and wait whatever comes quietly, because of that faith. God Bless you!" And that was all but I, remembering tho old promise, leaned against tho door, sick and shuddering. She had said, "I liave feitli in you,"and I knew that I must do as she bade mo.

It was past midnight when I returned to the house of death, but I easily gained admittance, and went softly up the stairs to tho room where Gertrude was lying in her last sleep. There were no watchers, but Mary, the nurse, met me at tho door. "I have been in every halfhour," she said. "Dear lady! she looks more like sleep than death. I'll not go in again until you come out, sir," and tho kind-hearted girl moved away as I opened the door.

There was a dim light burning in the room, and the windows were open the curtains swaying back and forth heavily in the wind, which forced its way even through the closed blinds.

I gazed around half-fearfullv, for a moment, as I stood on the threshold, but, in spite of myself, my eyes never lost sight of the white bed in the distant corner, with the outlines of tho silent form thereon, sharply defined through tho snowy sheet.

Could that be Gertrude? Accustomed as I was to death in its many forms, I was, for a moment, al

most afraid to approach that quiet figure but at last, nerving myself with a mightv effort, I went to the bedside, and tuigutv UIV1V, A MVIIV VMV moved the white sheet down from the fiice which was scarcely less white.

How calm, how peaceful, sho looked! There was a half-smile on her lips, and the wearied, troubled look, which she had worn during the last of her life, was

Eli

mo entirely, while the old-time, girl expression, had come back again. It seemed hours that I stood there, looking down at her. Tho first great shock of grief was over now, and as I stood face to fyce with her, I could not help feeling that it was wrong to wish her baek: she looked so peacefully happy, and tnerc was such an expression of perfect rest abont her, from the closed eyelids and half-smiling lips to the fair hands folded so meekly on her breast.

The riun beat fiercely against the house, the flickering light peopled the room with moving, shadowy forms, the curtains swayed, heaving back and forth and still I stood there, gazing down at the woman I loved, moving not, nor once turning my eyes away from the face which was so soon to be hiddon from

Bight,

R1.

and thinking of tho old

VT"ir.K~,f nr~«nninnpho/v ^npu (ff course, of course* It will lie like come. A painful or melanolioijr mci A.iun» intn desit coming to her knowledgo would Vn ^n hmir S trouble her for months,and from her babyhood we had tried to shield her, and keep such tilings away from her. When a yonng girl sho had, while visiting some friends, heard, accidentally, an account of a horrible occurrence which bad taken place in a neighboring county. It was oneofthosa cases of which we often hear, but which are rarely authenticated—a ease of burial before death.

There was a great deal of excitement aliout it at the time, and the whole affair made an impression upon Gertrude which seriously alarmed her fiither and mvnelf.

She could think and talk of nothing else her sleep was made a terror to her by dreams from which she woke trembling, weeping, and exhausted. The thoughts of the agony and utter despair of the wretched man who woke to find himself shut In a

narrow

prison, with

the terrible knowledge that there was no hope or help for htm—that he was buried alive—haunted her continually. Not until she made me make her a solemn promise that, I should outlive her, I would, In away which would admit of 110 doubt, awure myself of her death bofore permitting her burial,

did

she seem

at all like her old self, but when, at last I yielded—thinking, meanwhile, that

was quite certain that she would live for years upon earth alter I, a poor, weak# ailing cripple, was no more—she seemed to grow better daily.

From that day until the day of her death, the promise had never been mentioned between us. I had fancled.it had been long forgotten by her—but.to-night she who was lying beftre called npoti me to fulfil it.

*",

1 When I am

It will not

but as I stood

:nt, flnstrument inmn .rha —aflraid to strike

"I cannot!—Gertrude, I cannot!" 1 moaned,

I know not It your word" and'waU, whatever commlj been years for quietly, becaus* of tttai faith,"—4nd I

conquered myself. Ones more I atooil lookliig at Tur, then, tending, I fciaftd h*rc»ldlip4

Wa* it all*-hideous dreamlike those I hay? here, at timea? Did it ever really happen? My God! I do not know!

I struck, and suddenly ffidq\iiet ftp*** wakened into life, and sprang, convulsively, upward: the blue ayes opened wide, and fixed themselves upon ma with a terrified, reproachfirl look tho white anus were flung out toward me in agonised appeal a long-drawn, ahud"dering sigh came from the parted Hps

Noel, you have killed meV' I heard* her speak those words. I saw ber sink back—a tiny, crimson stream dabbling licr white robe, and then something in my head snapped suddenly the room grew ftearfVilly bright, and hideous forms, with mocking, devilish facea, crowded around me, Tim house began to tremble and shake with tho crowds of awfhlly visitors that suddenly appeared, and Iran out of the room and down through the great, empty hall, laughing aud shrieking with the demons that surrounded me, until a black cloud acttledaver me, and I knew no more.

THE I Id AGIN A TIONAND DEA TH. [Fsom the Brooklyn Eag!6, July 3.]

Entwistle, the printer, who was bitten by a dog in April last, died yesterday. Some believe no died of hydrophobia still more believe that he died merely of the fear of it. As it is perfectly apparent that the disease is a sealed book to science, either may bo .the true one. That the Imagination will kill is certain. Many of our readers will remember the case of the gardner at either Heldleberg orCottingen. This man was working in the garden on afresh spring morning, in the very prime of health. A student passed him with tho words:

All, Fritz, passed a bad night, eh?" No, sir. Never felt better." I'm glad to hear ft. Thouaht you looked pale. Your garden is looking verv beautiful, Fritz." wThank you, Bir."

Comes along another student. "Good morning, Fritz." Good morning, sir."

System a little out of order ?"•,! tfo, Sir." You look bad, heavy-eyed and pale.1' Didn't know it, sir." A more spring debility, I suppose. Good morning."

Fritz (solus)—I d« feel a sort of queer like. Comes along a Professor.

Well, Fritz, how are the violets?*' "Beautiful, sir." "You don't look very beautiful. What's tho matter with you Let me see your tongue. Your forehead clammy too. I think you had better go home and go to bed, Fritz."

I do feel queer, sir." I think yon would. Go to bed. Keep quiet for a lew daj

I believe I will, sir." I see Dr. Broeck coming this wayask him. Good day, Fritz, I'm sorry to see you in this state."

Good day. sir." Up comes the doctor. "Doctor, what do yon think Is the* matter with me?" evidently. Got here, send this to the dispensary, and take a tcaspoonful every nour. Don't eat till I sco you again, I'll call after the lecture is over, however. Bo very careful. I'll bring Doctor Wolff with me to see you. It's a curious case, very curious."

iiiniwr wii-ii iiivJ 1 Springoliuai Fritz, to bed, my man. And

Fritz went to bed. The doctors came. They walked on tiptoe: spoke iu whispers. They darkened the room. They gave him medicine—1. e., spoonful of pure water, and pills made of bread.

They left him. That night Fritz grew weaker and weaker. And in tho morning the students and the feculty were shocked with terror and horrified, in the midst of their laughter at poor Fritz's fears, when his poor weeping daughter came in to tell them that her stout, strong father of thirty odd years lay dead at home—dead of phantasy. There is no better case authenticated.

Another case is that of the French criminal condemned to death, and given to the doctors to experiment on. He pleaded for an 8asy death, and they gave it to him in this wise: They stretched him, naked, on a table, blindfolded his eyes, placed,basins of water at his arras and knees, pricked him with a pin not drawing blood even. They dropped from four vials little drops into tho basins, so that the unfortunate man oould hear a continuous drip, caused, he supposed, by the trickling of his own blood. The doctors held their watches. "Another half hour and it will be all over. You don't feel any pain do yon

No^ doctor but I feel my strength

In an hour and a quarter the poor fellow was dead. Several other examples of tho power ofimagtnation over life, as well authenticated as either of the foregoing, might bo cited but these will sufiice. We now come to tho last case, that of the man Entwistle, who died yesterday.

this last ease Kntwistlc'a Imagination was worked on by the stir, in the papers regarding hydrophobia. His imagination became excited at the narratives teld him in the papers, and out of them, about its dreadful effects. The fear it begot of water, the irrepressible tendency to imitate the contortions ho had read or heard of, displayed tho mania that attends an imagination excited to tho uttermost fears of what it will suffer, and which accepts as present that which at first it only feared for the future. As tho fears Trew, the imagination strengthened, Just as in the awes already quoted, and the result has been the same. STXO ULAR ARITHMETICAL FACT

Any number of figures you may wish .jjj _i 1%a anmii ML 2operation but yon must^...-toremembermust annex a

to multiply by 5 will give the same result if divided by 2-a much quicker 11 but von

the

answer when there is no

remainder, and when there is a remainder, whatever

may be. annex a

the answer. Mul tply ^'by answer will be 2^291 d^de

Multply

n.iawc. 1 2. and vou will have 232, and as there

remainder, you add a cipher. Now

ancTa remainder you therefore plaoea If

at the end of the line, and the result is again 1,796.

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