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Page 7 text:
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e r Auf . , . 1 l O 'MW' l vias, . 1 - g 0 K , , ui Q .- 1, '--K - sf s , 19. ff.-:':I?5I'. S A Q ' aye el.-:,':,r cv -. X E 'ss :'- 'A'. far N N - 209' Y .,11 2. - V , Q Y Ebe Cibil ren wp Arthur Peters '34 They loved the old man dearly because he was so kind, so gentle, and so in- dulgent to their foolish little desires. Almost every afternoon the two child- ren called on him for tea, and then he would put aside his work and talk gally with them in the beautiful child-country language which they understood. There were many lovely things at the old man's cottage to delight their hearts----colored picture books, pens and pencils and ink, long neat rolls of scribbled manuscript to unfold and delve intog and on the walls beautiful,heavy- frame pictures of inexhaustable fancy and wonder. To the children these great, dark paintings were holy and magic things--fragile as the day1ight,yet solid and durable as the moon--to be admired with reverential hush and awe. Here was where the old man would prove how sweetly he spoke the child-country language fwhioh ls, indeed, often wordlessl. In silence he and his two young friends would gaze at the wonderful landscapes--the dark green curves of the undulating hills---the flushes of golden sunset which flooded valleys and tinted castle towers with lu- cid rose--the distant, drowsy cattle--and all the quiet, lovely people. As they gazed together at these exquisite dreams, waves of thrilling pleasure would pass through them, all unbroken by words, and smooth like the gentle flow of one of those stately streams. But not all the visits to his cottage were pure delight, for at times the old man filled the children with strange awe. He wrote, wrote such interminable pages over that small desk !--while often during the long afternoon hours he would forget their presence as he sat at his work. The fire would grow cold,and they--weary of looking at pictures or colored books--grew nervous and pale and silent, yet fearful to break the terrible stillness which had settled down over the room. Unutterably horrible things would gather around the old man's quiet head at such timesg but, frozen with fear, the children would not move. In some corner of the darkening room they would crouch on the floor,shuddering,but still as mice, till the old man finally arose from his work and broke the silence with his cheery voice. Then Alice concealed her tears fthis she could always do, as the poor old man was so nearly blind without his spectaclesl and Rupert forgot his bitter misery, and they were all happy once more as they chatted before a fresh fire and sipped their tea. These fearful things did not frequently occurg yet sometimes at night,after their mother had turned down the night-lamp, despite Alice's tearful pleading, they could not help seeing ghastly things in the darkness of their bedroom. Then 3
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monstrous forms would leer at them from out of the dark,and the old man's beard- ed face would twist into ghastly contortions, or his strange eyes grow terrible and fixed. Alice would moan, and Rupert--not only to comfort his sister but be- casue he too saw fearful things in the night---would climb into the younger child's bed where the two would lie tightly locked in each other's arms until sleep pushed back the phantoms into nameless realms. The days added bravery to young Rupert's heart and cleverness to the little mind of Alice, but the awe with which they occasionally beheld the strange but kind old man never quite passed away. Though he petted them, and let them play among his pictured books, and gave them tea, and little cakes to dip, and little crackers to nibble, sometimes Cas I have saidj he would forget them over his pa- pers until the twilight came on and in the grey half-light Rupert could see---as he would tell Alice afterward---angels and bats flying 'round and 'round the old man's head. One summer afternoon there was a hard shower, and the two children were be- ginning to think they must have tea at home. But rather late the rain stopped, though the sun did not come out. They left the house, and wetting their shoes uncomfortably in the soaking grass, made their way down the lane towards the old man's cottage. The air was hot and electric. The sky was strangely low. Neither felt happy as they walked along, but they were so used to having tea at the old man's house that it did not occur to them to turn back. Reaching the cottage they knocked and listened. Through the open window a curtain stirred in the rising breeze, but only deep silence came forth. They knocked once more,but the stillness was only more profound.Behind the door were silent empty rooms, silent staircase, silent old man---all seeming to wait for them in the silence. They began to fear these things. But even then it did not occur to them to return. 'He must be as1eep,n said Alice, and Rupert nodded. In their hearts they thought of something very different. Rupert turned the handle of the door.0ften when the old man did not answer, they would let themselves in and find him wherever he sat, working or dozing in his chair. Usually they found him writing in the little room at the head of the stairs. The door opened just as the rain began to pat once more on the leaves.There was no one in the parlor. Rupert called faintly up the stairs while Alice peered into the empty kitcheng but they soon joined each other,for they did not like to have rooms between them. 'Shall we go upstairsln whispered the boy. Alice was pale,but she assented, and anxiously watching the face of her brother,followed him as he slowly ascend- ed the first steps. Their feet made no sound on the carpet. Half way up, the great clock in the parlor struck the half-hourg then within the house all was hushed, without, the faint drone of falling rain was heard. Wild terrorseized them, but they did not pause nor speak. what was language? Their horror came from breathless gulfs, empty and still as doom. Mute signs, mute signals, laden with unutterable significance, pass between children in moments of fear. Their guardian angel perhaps heard the shrill mute appeals---perhaps the reverberating ether carries such tongueless supplication on its impalpable wings .... A chill breath of air swept up the dim case, making a low little sound as it passed beneath the several doors of the upper hall. 4
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