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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1926-7-14, Page 7r Air The Red Limp (Copyright) by MARY ROBERTS RINEHART 470.. and I fancy there was a considerable •,uvity again, amount of globes hystericus as the I June 17th class of "70 marched onto the Field After all, security has its points, on Class Day, Only eight of them 1 am the object of a coAain aui this year, Uncle Horace being mise- onnt of suspicion to -day on the part ing. Poor old boyl of my household! There is no place Which reminds me that Jane in the world, I Imagine, for a piffles. thought she saw him with the others opher with a sense of hutnor, a new es they marched in. Wonderful 'woman, Jane! No imagination ordin- arily, meticulous mind and only a faint sense of humor. Yet she drags poor old gorace out of his year-old grave and marches -him onto the Field, and then becomes slightly sul- ky with me when I laugh! "I toid you to bring your' glase.es, my dear," I said. "How ninny men aro in that group?" she demanded, tensely. "Eight. And for heaven's salsa lower your voice." "I see nine, William," she said quietly. And when she stood up to take her usual snap -shots of the Alumni procession she was teembling. A curious woman, Jane. So another year is over, and what have 1 to show for it? A small addi- tion to my account in the savings hank, a volume or two of this un- eventful dairy, some hundrede of men who perhaps know the Cavalier Poets and perhaps not, and some few who have now an inkling that Eng- lish literature did not begin with - Shakespeare. What have I to look forward to? Three months of uneventful summer- ing, perhaps at Twin Hollows—if Larkin ever gets the estate settled— and then the old round again. Mil- ton and Dryden and Pope. Addison and Swift. "Mr. Sims, have you any idea who wrote the Ancient Mariner? Or have you by chance ever heard of the Ancient Mariner?" "Wordsworth, I believe, sir." Yet I am not so much discontent- ed as afraid of sinking into a lethar- gy of smug iconoclasm. It is bad for the soul to cease to expect grapes of a thistle, for the next stage i3 to be "old and cynic; a garrlon crow," like the old man in Prince Otto, with rotten eggs the burden of my song. Yet what is it that I want? My little rut is comfortable; so long have I lain in it that now my very body leisure, and an inquiring turn of mind- In fact, I sometimes wonder whether any philosopher belongs in the present day and generation. These are times of action. Men think arid then art; sometimes, ho leed, "-s-s :imply act. 4 philosopher, of count., should only think And all this because last night 1 set Jane's clock forward one hour. 13ecauee, forsooth, I had determined to cease casting my eyes out on the world, and to study intensively that small .domain of my own which lies -behind the drain Pine! During some nine months of the year I bring home to Jane from the lecture room the mere husk of a man; exhausted with the endeavor to implant one single thought into a brain where it will germinate, I sink into my easy chair and accept the life of my household. Tea. Dinner. A book. Bed. And this is my if. My existence, rather. But with the close of the spring term I find a fain life stirring with- in me. "Isn't this a new tea?" I will say. "You have been drinking it all winter," Jane will reply, riither shortly. Yesterday was my first free clay, and last night I wandered about the house, looking over my possessions and re -discovering them. "You've had the sofa done over, my dear." "Before Christmas," Jane replied, andglanced at one. In return I glanced at Jane. It dawns on a man now and then that he knows very little about his wife. He knows, of course, the sur- face attributes of her mind, her sense of order, — Jane is orderly — her thrift, and Jane is thrifty. She has had to be! But it came to me sud- denly that I knewyery little of Jane, after all. She is making one of those end - has conformed. I fit roy easy chair less bits of tapestry, which some day beside my reading lamp; my thumbs she will put on the seat of a chair, are broadened with much holding of and thereafter I shall not be expect - hooks. 1 depend On my tea. led to sit in that chair. But it is not Yesterday, calling on Lear, I must a work which requires profound at - have voiced my uneasiness, for he tention. She was working at it at at once suggested a hobby. His bed the moment, her head bent, her face was littered with mutilated envel- impessive. opes. "What are you thinking about, "Nothing like it," he said. "It's Jane?" I asked her. • the eafety valve of middle life, and "I really wasn't- thinking at all." the solace of age." I dare say from that I fell to spec - "I'm not quite sure 1 want 0 ulating on Jane's mind, and that does safety valve," I said, and I .Cancied not imply a criticism. Rather on the he looked at me suspiciouely. I contrary, for Jane has an excellent A hobby! Shall I gather postage mental equipment. But a! am some - stamps, and inquire of a letter nos times aware that she possesses cer- from whom it comes, but from thin qualities that I do not possess. where? Or adopt Jaae's camera and For example, it would be impossible take little pictures of unimportant fox me to imagine, as Jane did on folk doing uninteresting thlngs? Or Class Day, that I saw Uncle Horace. go, as Lear finally suggested, a -fish.! Although, like all men with defac- ing? Is it to be my greatest adven- tive vision, I have occasional optical ture to pull a fish out of the water illusions. But it is equally impos- and watch 't drown with wide-open_ sible for mo to deny that she did ed mouth, in the air? Ah me! ; see Uncle Horace, and there has been "Greatest rest in the world for she a certain subtle change in her since brain," Lear said. "Fishieg." 'which convinces me of her sincerity. "I'm not sure I want a rest for my ! What than, I considered, is the brain," 1 protests . "I dare say difference between Jane's mind and what I need is a complete tihange " my own? Se has seine curious :slot - "Well, try ptomaine," he eruct dri- ity which she hides like one of the ly, and with that rwent away. 1 seven deadly sins, and which makes hex at times a difficult person with whom to live. I have already recorded in this Journal that one occasion in my life When at the reunion of my class, (1890), some wag proposed all that was left of the various liq- uors in the punch bowl and drinking a stirrup cup out of it, and the feet that was extremely dizzy on my way home. But I diel not record, I think, the fact that after I had quietly entoed the house and got myself to becl, Jane came into my room. "Ohl So you are back!" sho said. "Certainly I am back, my deer." It seemed unnecessary to state that neither she pot the doorway in which site stood seemed entirely steady at the moment, nor did ;so state. But perhaps it was not neecesary, fot after eyeing me coldly for a mom- ent, she said; l "Were you supporting the eluipel half a'n hour ago, William, or was it supporting you?" "I don't kriONT what you are talk- ing aboutl" "Don't yea?" she observed, and re- tired quietly, after remweing my shoes from the top of my book case. But the hmniliating friet'rereains that I had stopped for it moment's rest beef& the thapoly and that stoffiehOW lane kturty it. But 7 dare say I ear is right. The prospect of my three months' vaca- tion has gone to my head somewhat. And I dare say too. that I am much like the solitary water -beetle Jock found on the kitchen floor last night. That is, willing eaough to leave my snug spot behind the warm pipes • of life until danger threatens, 'or dis- eomfit, and then all for ecurryiog back, a -tremble, into unexciting sec - Letterheads Envelopes Billheads And all kinds of Bushiess Stationery printed at The Post Publishing House. We will do a job that will do credit to your business. Leek over your stock of Office Stationery and if it requires replenishing dell us by telephone 31. 1 be POst Publishing Onto THE BRUSSELS POST WEDNESDAY, JULY 14, 192( Or take again that incident already recorded in this Journal, under the clate of June 28th of last year, when she awakened me at seven o'cloek and said she had seen. Uncle Horace lying dead on the floor of the library at Twin Uollows, "DroainS,"i eaid aroweily, "aro ;limply wish fulfillments. Go beak to bed, my dear. The ela bay's all right." "I wasn't asleep," she seid, quiet- ly, "And you will have a telephone message soon telling you 1 VMS And ao true was this that she hard- ly ceased speaking before Annie Cochran called up to tell us she had found him, at seven O'clock, dead on the library floor. (Note: In preparing these notes for pohlication one thing °eters tO me very strongly, and that is this: it is curious that my wife's vision, or whntever it may be called, did not occur until some hours after the death. H there came some mental cell to her, why not when he was in extremis? Not only would It have helped us greatly inthe mystery vhich was so soon to develop, but it would have been more true th the wand type of such phenomena. In this case, if we are to admit anything but coincidence, it is easier to accept the fact that we are dealing with mental telepathy. In other words, that the :fervent, Annie Cooli- ran, who actually found the body at: seven in the morning at once thought of Jane and so flashed the scene to her. But I admit that this is merely explaining one mystery with anoth- er.) So I was reflecting, as Jane pushed her needle through her tapestry, slow, infinitely plodding and absolu- tely composed. What portion of Jane, then, wandered out at night, and saw me with a death -grip on the chapel wall? Or, with a fine con- tempt of distance and a house she loathed, went to Twin Hollowe and found Uncle Horace on the floor? It ',vas an interesting thought, and I played with it out of sheer joy in idleness. The Sane then, whom 1 eould reach out and touch at night, might only be the shell of Jane while the real Jane might be off on some spirit adventure of her own! I con- sidered this. It has, one must ad- mit, its possibilities. And just then she glanced up at me. "What are you thinking about?" she asked, "My dear," I said gravely, "I ton worrying," "What about?" "About yon." "I'm all right," though of course away somewhere." "That's precisely what rm worry- ing about!" I observed, and she looked puzzled but said nothing. went back to Jane's mind, with a volume of von Humbolt unnoticed on my knee. Had she true 'claitvoy- ance, whatever that may mean'? Or was telepathy the answer? She is Scotch, and the Scots sometimes claim what is called "second sight." know that in her heart she believes she has this curious gift. She was, they say, a queer child, seeing and hearing thinks unseen and heard by others. And I know she fears aud hates it; it is somehow irreligious to her, •13ut has she? No immediate answer being forth - (=dog, I went .back to tny book, and very soon I happened on the following paragraph: UA presumptu- ous scepticism which rejects 'facts without examining them to see if they are real, is more blameworthy than an irrational credulity." It was, in a Way, a challenge, but there were no facts to examine. I could believe that Jame is morelY fine recording instrument on which telepathic impressions are reaerded, or 1 could accept that she is able to 'leave that still lovelylhut slightly matronly body of hers on occasion and travel on the wings of space. But, because my interest was arous- ed, I consulted the dictionary on clairvoyance, and found that it was the faculty of being able to perceive objects without the customary MO of the senses. It was "vision without eyes." Even then—on so tiny a base does one's comfort behind the pipe some- times depend --.--ell would have been well had not Clara entered with the dish of f Emit which is my method of telling the seasons; the winter orange and balm% gradually giving way to the early berries which mark the spring and 130 on. And with that Jane looked at the clock. Thstt glance Sens at once my doSen- Tall and my trinmph. For it occurred to me then to Make a simple experi- ment, and "to examine the fleets." "Jane," T argued, "rises by her bedroom eloek every matting, and punctually to the minute, But .Tatte does not look et II& einClt, Theft, If I set it .ferWard one hotte-1" And set it titivate] one hoor 1 did, After -Sane was asleep. Avid at tile MOMent ltS hansla indicted woo - thirty, although it was but haliVali she said. "Al - rd like to get six, did Jane open her eyes, rise from her bed without so much as a glance toward the clock, and call her house- hold. So Jane Saw her clock without eyes, Clara has been sulks- all day, and I am In extreme disfavor. "Really, William," Jane said with 11 sigh this afternoon, "you are very difficult in the holidays," "Difficult?" "You know perfectly well you turned my clock on," "Why in the world should I turn your clock on?" "It is your idea of being funny, f dare say." "It Isn't funny to be wakened an hour too,soon, my dear," But she is suspicious of me, and cold toward me. Thus I suffer the usual lot of the seeker after truth. And Jane, my dear Jane, can see without her eyes. But she cannot understand yet why I turn- ed her clock on for all her curious ability. Nor, after eating the burn- ed biscuits Clara served to -night, can 1. But if Sane can see without her eyes, if she can perceive objects not visible to those of us who depend on the usual senses, then is one to ad. reit that she saw Uncle Horace, as she said she did, marching at the head of his class procession last Tuesday? June 18th. I feel to -night rather like a man who had caught a bull by the tail and daren't let go. And yet I am certain there is a perfec'ely natoral explanation. The difficulty is that I 'cannot very well go to Jane about it. II it is what it appears to pe, and not a dou- ble exposure, it will frighten her. If it a double exposure, she will wonder at my inquiry, and think I am watch- ing her. She has not, even to -day, quite forgotten the clock. But certain things aro very cur- ious; she thought the saw TT net . I1,r- ace marching onto the Field with his class. So much did this upsw; her that, when she stood up to take her picture, the camera shook in her hands. Then she takes the picture, and instead of the eight old men of the class of '70 there are nine. And she knows it. Why else should she hide the print, and psetend that she had mislaid it? It was that fact svhich made me suspicious. ' "I'll look them up for you later, William," she said. "You aren't in a hurry are you?" "In the bright lexicon of vacation there is no such word as hurry," I observed, brightly. And she who us- ually smiles at my. feeblest effort turned abruptly away, So Jane had lost her picture. Jane, whose closets are mervels of mathematical exactness, who keeps my clothing so exactly that I can find it in the dark, save for that one incident, duly noted in this journal, when I unfolded a washcloth at the President's dinner, having taken it, from my handkerchief box. And shortly after Jane went out for a walk, Jane who never exercises save about her household. Poor Jane, I feel to -night, face to face with the inexplicable and hiding it like one of the seven deadly sins. There are nine men In the picture; there is no getting away from it. And there Is no denying either, a faint differdnce in the ninth figure, a sort of shadowiness, a lack of defi- nition. Under Jane's reading glass It gains nothing. The features, ow- ing to the distance, are inclistinet, but if one could imagine the ghost of old Horace, in his brocaded dressing gown and slightly stooped to cough, In that blare of noise, shouting and sunshine, it is there, Later; I have shown the picture to Lear, and he says it is undoubt- edly a case of double exposure. "What else could it be?" he said, with that peculiar irritation induced in some people by any suggestion of the supernatural. "I don't think she ever took a picture of him in her life." "Well, somebody has," Ise said, andhanded the print back to me. "If you don't believe me, show it to Cameron. He's a shark on that sort of thing," ' (Note: Cameron, Exchange Pro- fessor of P)sysics, at out UnifvetsIty. A member of the Society for Psychi- cal Research, and known, I under- stand, among the students as "Spooks" Cameron.) But I have not shown it to Cam- eron, and I do not intend to, I hardly know the man for one thing. ct frit another, Lear is right. TIw University, looks with mispicion on the few among the faculty who have on occasion dabbled with such mat. ters. "Personally," isaanici, "I think it's a double exposure. But whether it is or not I'm damned etuttain of one thing, the less attid about it the bet- this" - Stine 19.0. Curioue, When one begins to thialt On a selldeet, how it sometimes coulee up in the most unexpected places. I dropped inth the dinjbg coon fat tea this afternoon after Jane's bridge party, to find Jane looking un- eomfortable and an animated =ret- ention on apiritutdism going on, with Helen Lear leading it. "Ahl" she said when she saw Teo, "here comes our cynic, 1 suppose you don't believe in automatic writ- ing either?" "I should," 7 replied gravely-, "I have seen as many as fifty men tak- ing :Knee while in a trance i51 my lecture room." "Nor in spirits?" "Certainly I, do. And in the Smoke of Prophery, and the Powder of Death." She looked rather blank, and Jane flushed a trkao. "What is more," I said, a trifle carried away by the tensenes.e ef the room, perhaps, "I know that if take a piece of chalk—have you any chalk, Jane?—and draw on the floes here the magic circle, and a triangle within it, no evil spirits can approach me. Get the chalk, di•ar; I promise I shall not be disturbed by so much as one demon." In the laughter which followed, the subject was dropped. But Hel- ena Lear, when she gave me my tea, eyed trio with amusement. "You and your circle!" she said. "Don't you know that these women more than half believe you?" "And don't you?" "You don't believe yourself." "Still," I said, remembering. von Humboldt, "I am not an out and out sceptic. I will adimt that .Tock there, who is acting as a vacuum cleaner under the table, can hear and see and smell things that I cannot. But I do not therefore believe that he communicates with the spirit world." "But he sees things you don't see. You admit that." "Certainly. He may see further into the spectrum than I do." "Then what does he see?" she said, triumphantl y. A fortunate digression enablua to escape with a whole skin, but I think there was something quizzical in her smiling farewell. After all, if Jock does see things I do not, what does he see? I'm bleased if I know. June 20th. Jane knows that I have seen the picture, and that I know it lies be- hind her refusal to go to Twin Hol- lows for the eummer. When came back from Larkin's. office to -day, the final papers having been signed, I could see her almost physically brew - Mg herself. "So it's all set, my dear," I said. "And if we ran gel Annie Cochran to clean the place a bit—." "Would you mind so very munh," she ,.nskod, almost wistfully, "if we don't go there?" "But it's all se•ttled. Edith is com- ing back on purpose." (Note: 'rite "Edith" of the Journ- al is my niece, who makes her twine with us. At this time she was ab- sent on a round of house partiee. A very lovely and popular girl, of Whom more hereafter.) "It's too large for us," said .jene. "I need a rest in the summer, not a big house to care for." And there was a certain definite- ness in her statement which ended -the conversation. As a result, and following our usual course when there is a difference between ue, we have taken refuge in a polite silence all day, the familiar rmed neutrality of marriage. An uncomfortable state of affairs, and aggravated bf Edith's absence. When she is here her bright talk fills in the gape, and in the end she forces a rapproache- monis Lear has told Cameron about the picture. I met Cameron while tak- ing Jock for his evening walk to- night, and he s'& -introduced himself to me, After to -day's repression I fear I was a bit talkative, but he was a good listener. Evidently he has a certain under- standing .of Jane's refusal to go to Twin Hollows, although he said very little. "Houses are curious, sometimes," was his comment. But on the matter of the picture he was frankly interested. "There is," he said, "a certain v.e.ight in the ori,lone, for psychic photography, Mr. Porter. Of- course It is absurd to claim that all the curious photographs—and thousands of them come to me—are produned by disearnate intelligences. But there is something; I don't know just what." Jane has gone to bed, still politely spend the summer, and why Jane finds tha house at Twin Hollow what Cameron describes as curious. . A mild term, that, for Jane's feel- ing about the house. Actually, she hates it. Has always hated it. Sho haa no pride in our acquisition of it; she has even steadfastly refueed to bring away from it any of that early American furniture with which old Horace had filled it, (To Be Continued). BUSINESS CARDS irma Industrial Mortgage And NSavings Corn pany, of Sarnia Qatari°, era prepared to advance money on Mortgages on goad lauds. 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