Saved by the Sexton
By A. A; Smith. ' ‘
Vvvvvv‘v Y vvv
l
; Author's Note: "Saved by the Sexton"
{is a. story based upon facts, which were
j'time. For obvious reasons fictitious names
'of the parties to the grews-ome adventure
as used. and the name of the city near
lwhlch' it occurred is purposely omitted.
lNewspaper readers with retentive mem-
gorles, however. will be able to recall both
‘ 9 parties to what may aptly be termed
' providential crime, and the locality in
which it occurred. The lady who owed so
'much to the desecration of her grave lived
,gor eight years afterward and became the
lmother of two healthy children, but the
lgullty sexton did not long survive the
fence: resulting from his ghoulish night'ls
_ ‘ T WAS by no means-a tenement house
Funk.
. picture upon which the sexton gazed
Eas he stepped across his own threshold.
}.The room was small and poorly furi
:nished, but it did not present the gaunt
inspect of poverty in the lowest degree.
gThere were four rooms in the little
lhousc and they contained all the es-
isentials for comfortable living, even-
gthough the carpetsyvere made of rags
and the scant furniture was worn and
#36156. The most dismal feature of the
jplace was the discontented face of the
woman who was facing himin the low
irocker. '
j “What makes you so late, Thomas-'2”;
lshe asked, fretfully. -
“I, had to finish digging the Whitnell
grave,” the man replied. “The fu-'
meral’s to-morrow, and there’s a lot to _
ido. Three dollars is'not such a bad.
:day’s work for us, is it, Mary?” '
; “Bad,” she repeated, turning wearin
away. “It’s all been had ever since I
'could remember. What an aspiring
Eman you are, Thomas, to talk about a
5beggarly day’s work as if you had found
:‘a fortune.” .
Sexton Williams only sighed as he
'went in to his supper. Long- experi-
Ience. had taught him the futility of try-
.ing to dispel the fretful melancholy of
his wife. - ,
“The same old bill of fare again,”
sighed the querulous woman opposite
him. “Who wouldn’t get tired of the:
same old things over and over again?
I do wish we could live like-somebody
.for awhile, just for the novelty of it.”
“Why don’t you talk?” she demand-1
.ed, as Thomas ate his supper in silent
constraint. “One would think it was
gloomy enough Without bringing your
graveyard manners into the house.0 I
suppose the Whitnells will make a.
swell affair of their funeral to-mor-
row?”
“Indeed they will,” responded her
husband, brightening with the thought
of having something of interest to im-
part to his wife. “She is to be buried
in her wedding clothes. There’s an ele-
gant necklace and some pearls, and—
diamonds.”
“Diamondsl” exclaimed the wife.
“The idea of putting them into the
ground. It’s a shame.” '
“Worse than the barbarians,” replied
the sexton, “but she requested it, and
the mourners seem more anxious than
anything that the corpse shall present
a. striking appearance. The under-
taker said it would be done, and I saw
hen laid out in them myself.” .
“Oh, dear!” fairly groaned the wom-E
on. “And all that shameful waste
while I can’t have as much as a pair of
new curtains to replace these wretched
rags. If I were a man I’d—I’d rob that
grave before those jewels should be put
to such a shameful use.”
II.
It was a night well suited to the
work of ghouls. The wind came in
great Wave-s, shrieking at the height
of its fury like a soul in torment, then
dying away in a. sighing breeze. Great
billowy clouds were swept across the
sky, while a driving mist would break
at 'mtervals into a" sudden dash of rain
as a great storm cloud was swept
along. In the grewsome churchyard,
~where marble shafts gleamed weirdly
through the rain and darkness, the
light of a lantern played fantastically
about a new-made grave. Bending over
the soggy clay was the figure Of a. man.
_With desperate. energy he plied the
spade, and as‘he‘threw aside the little
heaps of- rain-soaked earth his eyes
shot fearful glances into the weird and
ominous night. To his guilty senses
the howling of the wind seemed like
the voiCes of offended spirits of the
dead, and from out the rain and dark-
ncss he could see in fancy the accusing
menace of ghostly hands. Great drops
of. perspiration fell from his face and.
mingled with the rain trickling in rivu-
lets down his rubber coat. He trem-
bled like au aspen; his knees were
weak from superstitious dread, and yet
with dogged resolution be applied him-
self to his ghoulish task.
"Curse the rain," he
muttered,
straightening up and resting for a
‘ moment. “But it’s a lucky touch. No
danger of interference on such a night
as this. Mary’ll get her curtains all
right enough."
For an hour be tossed aside the sticky
clay, and then his task grew easier.
The gruvc sheltered him somewhat
from the wind, and the earth became
less rain-soaked and heavy. Another
hour and his spade scraped upon the
' cover of the box inclosing the casket.
He carefully scraped away the remain-
ing clods and threw them out, and then
as he prepared to remove the cover
the unspeakable terrors of his task
swept over him again. With choking
breath he stood up and‘ peered over the
, 'edge of the grave he had desecratcd,’
, “ 'liis tortured fancy halting between the
* terrors of the churchyard and the aw-
wful proximity of the thing beneath his
feet.
‘ “The first time; the first time," he
‘ffmuttered, striving to‘ regain his com-
posure. “And I wouldn’t do it now,
only it kinder seems as if I owed it to
Mary. And ,she”——he glanced shudder-
"’ .gly down at thebox beneath his feet.
“She doesn’t need: them anymore; and."
was wicked to bury them with her."
widely exploited by the newspapers at the'_
Oontrolling himself with a great ef-
fort, he. completed his grewscme work.
_, Standing close against one side of the
grave, he‘lifted the cover of the box
from beneathhis feet and threw it out
upon the pile of earth. Then, kneeling
upon the lower part. of the casket, he
' quickly removed the screws from the
the grave. The sexton had reached the
climax of his task. Before him in the
dim light of his lantern lay the uncov-
ered face of the dead woman, white and
cold inthe repose of death. In the mo—
ment of the greatest tension the sexton
grew 9., little ‘ca‘lmer. He lifted .ythe
dainty hand and sought to pull the pre-
cious jewel..from the finger. It would
not yield to his effort, and he lifted the
woman’s head and removed a costly
locket and a string of pearls. 'Then he
returned to "the sparkling ring upon her
finger.» " ‘
It would not yield. .He tried again
and again, and as he worked all the
wild - fancies of the night rushed over
him again until‘he was on the point of
fleeing from the grave without the
jewel. Then with sudden resolution he
took a knife from. hispocket, intend-
ing to amputate the finger. He pressed
the keen blade upon her finger, And
then— i“ ,
Th .oughout the city of the dead there
echoed one awful, frenzied scream,
then another and another. Emethe
like a fiend escaped from torment, and,
dashing down his lantérn, he rushed
away from that fearful. place as though
“ ‘11
ll 2
-.
, r
, L g
. , w- "
.
.
l
BEFORE HIM LAY THE UNCOVERED
FACE.
all the Wild fancies of his guilty brain
had taken form and were rushing in
pursuit.
III.
Twelve o’clock found Mr. W'hitnell
pacing restlessly up and down the par-
lor of his lonely mansion. He could not
sleep, and his own room contained so
many reminders of his departed wife
that he could better endure the parlor,
where he had last~ seen her radiant with
hedlth and happiness.
The stroke of_ one echoed drearily
through the house, and still the grief-
stricken man paced up and down. For
another hour he wrestled with the mem-
ories of his wedded life, and then ex-
hausted nature warned him that he
must seek repose. He turned sorrow-
fully to leave the room, when. quick.
clear and distinct, above the roaring of
the storm, he heard the summons of the
doorbell.
Mr. Whitnell was not a man to be op-
pressed by superstitious fears. He de-
spised such weakness in others, yet now
a nameless dread swept over him. He
the night. Despite his self-command,
he almost cried out aloud, for in the fan-
tastic glare of the electric light he be-
held a ghostly,white-robed figure stand-
ing at his door. For a moment the
firmly-grounded beliefs of a lifetime
were swept away, and Mr. Whitncll was
thrilled with the superstitious fancies
he despised. Then a shriek echoing
through the house recalled him to his
senses. A ,servant had opened the door
and seen the ghostlike figure and then
fled, crying that thc'spirit of his mis-
tress was standing at the door. Mr.
W'hitnell’s quick brain grasping at a
suggestion of the truth, he ran down
and caught in his arms the cold, wet,
trembling, yet living, form of his rcs-
urrected wife.
IV.
In the evening papers of that day the
marvelous story was told, needing no
coloringof imagination to make it more
sensational. They told how Mrs. Whit-
nell had been awakened from a cata-
leptic trance by the pressure of a knife
upon her finger; how she had sat up
with every sense awakened to feel the
cold, damp walls of the grave about
her; how, with those awful screams
ringing in her ears, she awoke to a
realization of the truth, filling her with
a terror scarcely less great than the sex»
ton’s; and how, with returning reason,
she had climbed out of her grave and
made her way through the storm to
her own home. Graphically they de-
scribed the appearance of the grave,
which hundreds visited—the heap of
earth, with the spade and lantern ly-
ing upon it, and the casket lid and cover
of the box. They pictured the joy of
the reunited family, but in it all there
was no definite mention of the shut.-
tered, half-crazed sexton, whose mind
would never recover from the terrors
of that night’s work. Powerful influ-
ences from a grateful, reunited family
had been at work. and the papers con-
mined only the statement that, while
the would—be grave robber was known.
tbezhuppy ending of his ghoulish at-
tempt had not only saved him from
prosecution, but had brought him sub-
stantial reward. .
Electricity In Glisl Mnklnu.
"manufacture of glass. A pot of “batch"
i can be tghusimelted'in 15 minutes that ,
i formerly required 30 hours.
upper lid and threw it, too, outside of,
desecrated grave out leaped the sexton, ‘
went to the window and peered into”
s.
" Elgetvicity has been applied to the ~‘
can’t be Disproven.
Norwalk People are Face to:
"Face with Facts
When a. local citizen comes forward
and makes a public statement, unhesi-r
tatingly endorsing the workings of
f‘The , Little "Conqueror” no better
proof can be had. The timid- and
doubtful, the scoffer and the skeptic,
are brought face to face with facts
which cannot be disprdven.
fully given by them, and told here' in
their own words, it is the positive evi-
dence of merit that. backs every box of .
Read this; a. case
Doan’s Kidney Pills.
in point:
Mrs. John Grace, of 32 ..,.Plattsville-=-
' Ave., sayszv—"l. am well up in years and:
for quite a long while I suffered with
my back and kidneys. The'pain often.
extended down into my limbs and was
fré’quently so severe that I supposed
that I hadrheumatism. .I was advised
to use Doan’s Kidney Pills and procur-
ed a box at Hale’s Drug store, (now
Glendening & Co. ’3) and began taking
them. I think the pills are a. good
thing, they cured me.”
Doan’s Kidney Pills for sale by all
dealers; price 50 centsa box. Mailed
on receipt of price by Foster-Milburn
(30., Buffalo, N. Y., sole agents for' the
Remember the name—Doan’s—and
take no other. ‘ ‘
ONE WOMAN’S WAY.
A Livelihood Gained from the Fem-
inine Sense of Jumping at
a. Good Thing.
l
l
r
l
i
“I met a woman not long ago on thi
road,” remarked a New York drummer
“who gave me a point or two On hov
a bright woman can make her way in
,the world. She was a widow, with fun
.children to support, and was house
.keeper of an Indianapolis hotel until
iher health failed. She had to give it u;
at. last, though she tried to hold 011, f0]
.that was all she knew how to do, and
ishe, retired with only $100 or so to gc
)on. Not knowing exactly whither tc
:turn, she‘ went to New York city and
i just wandered around for awhile, look-
ling at things. One day she saw the
' women crowding the life out of one an-
'other at a bargain sale of skirts, and a
:thought struck her. She let it develop
for a day or two, and then spent all the
' money she had for silk skirts that were
jdestined for the bargain counter.‘ ‘ They
.were’ rumpled and looked jaded and
'tired, but she took them as they were
: at small figures and carriedthem to he:
‘rooms. There she ironed’ and pressed
them out till they looked like new, and
[then went out into the suburban towns
.to sell them. She found ready pur-
chasers at good prices, and came back
-'for more. These she made as good as
mew and had no trouble in dispOsing 01
'her stock.
She added shirt waists next and that
‘began getting shop-worn silks, rem-
;‘nants and that kind of stock, and grad-
fually increased her territory, hiring
{somebody to do the renovating while
,she was attending to the buying and
;selling. She has been at it three 01
-four years, and: in that time has built
Eup a trade that is paying her this'yeai
:between «$500 and $600 a month. She
‘has her children at good schools; has a
nice little home in one of the suburban
"towns, Which she owns, and is show
gthe thriftiest’ and most businesslike
.woman I ever saw. No training either
ito begin with, just the woman’s sense
1of jumping at a good thing and get-
ting it.”
SCHOOL BOY ‘iiAigéfi'iEIER;
'A Philadelphia Teacher Says
Their Actions She Can Forc-
tell Rainy Weather.
b!
It looked like rain, and naturally be
had on a pair of light shoes and carried
no umrella. The car stopped on the far
side of Girard avenue, and a young
lady ‘got. in, says the Philadelphia. In-
'quirer. She bowed, and sat down beside
1the Saunterer, who recognized in her a
school teacher friend.
“What do you think of this beastly
weather?” queried he, disgruntedly.
“Is it going to rain, or isn’t it?”
“I can't tell you to-day,” answered the
young lady, smiling an acceptance of
whatever might come. “If it were a
school day and you were willing to
come to school with me, I could tell you
in a very few minutes with absolute
certainty. It’ll sound funny to you,
but it’s true. I have noticed that you
can always tell what the weather is go-
ing to be by the children. They’re reg-
ular barometers. If there’s going to
be a storm they get restless, and I have
the hardest kind of work to control
them. Particularly the boys. The girls
aren’t so. bad, but there seems to be
some mysterious quality about ap-
proaching rain that always affects the
former. I’ve got so now I don’t blame
them, because I don’t believe they Can
help it. So you see,” she concluded, as
she got out at Chestnut street, “chil-
dren have their uses, after all.”
—T.
0.009118:
. Golds,
Grime. “
Whooping Cough. Asthma,
Bronchitis and incipient ~
Consumption, is '
and \uugét fineness. ‘
mm<-,Z.5fi
v. k
I‘he mes. ' ‘
timouy of friends and neighbors, che‘er-' ,
_ W [LLIAM J. EAS'I'ON, Secretary.
t .A’: (H
m MUTUAL u [INSURAN
_ ,OF NEW YORK-.-
ammo A. armor, President.
Statement for the Year Ending Dec. 31:98.
According to the Standard of the Insurance Department of the State of New York.
moon 9. .
Received for Premiums . . ‘ . . 3 2 18
From ail other Sources . . . . . . 12:32:52,343: 3;
$55,006,629 43
DISBUR§EM ENTQ.
To Policy-holders for Claims by Death SI 26
. . . 08 o -
To Policy-holders for=Endowments, Dividends, etc. . 3,482,251 3;
For all other Accounts . . ' . . . [0:493,379 53
. 9
a, :53593459038 88
ASSETS.
United States Bonds and other Securities . .
‘ $160 6 I
First Lien Loans on Bond and Mortgage . . . 681::3’53; :3
Loans on Bonds and other Securities, ... . . 9,396,619. as
Real Estate, appraised by Insurance Superintendents ’
at $23,534,826.88 : Book Value . .. . ' co 6 6-
Cash in Bauk's'nu‘d Trust Companies . .. . ’ 11:02:32. :I;
Accrued Interest, Net Deferred Premiums, etc. . . 6,434I957 10
5W
’ LIABILITIES.
Policiy Reserves, etc., 233,058,640 6t
Contingent Guarantee Fund . . ' . ‘— . . . ' . .
Divisible Surplus . .V’ .. . - . . . ' gigggzggd :2
p - 2.71 §l7o32§ 6
Insurance and Annuities in Force .- . . 3971:71 15997 :9
lhavo carefully examined the foregoing Statement and find the same tome .conec
"abilities calculated by the‘lnsurance Department. CHARLES A. PRELLER, Auditou
From the Surplus a dividend will be apportioned as usue
Board of Trustees-
HENRY H. Rooms
Jno. W Aoomxcnoss
THEODORE Moaronn
WILLIAM BABcoox
Sruvvssmr FISH
Aucusrus D. J omunn
Camus E. MILLER
WALTER It Gmrrr
H. WALTER WEBB
..
ADRIAN Issmx J a.
GEORGE S. Bownms
WILLIAM 0. Warm»
-Wn.LIAII Rosanna.” ‘ ' "
JAMES N. J Aims ~
OnAs D. DIcKnr J 3.
Enamel: T. Gunny
June Sparse;
Fnstuo CaonwsLL
J omen T. DAVIES
A. N. WAmsousr
CHARLES R. Himnsusos
Burns W‘. chmu
J. Bower Hmuuox
Wu. P. DIXON
Rosm'r A. Gamma
Grocer G. HAm .
Smut D. BAncoca
RICHARD A MoCtmnr
James C. HOLDEN
HEBMANN C. VON Pos'r
WILLIAM J. Snwsm.
OLIvsn mem
Bonner Omrmzr
Grouse F. Bun
Dunner Onoor'r
I ROBERT A. GRANI’SS, Vice-President.
WALTER R. GILLETTE, General Manager, . ,
[SAAC I". LLOYD, 2d Vice-President DUEB du—P..BBEOK, Gorres‘pon ‘ing Secretan
. ALBERT KLAMBOTH, Assistant Beciétary
FBEDERIO CROM WELL, Treasurer. ‘ .
JOHN A. FUNDA. Assistant Treasurer. JAMES TIMr SON. 2d Assistant Treasurer.
WILLIAM F. SANDS, Cashier. . EDWARD .P. HOLDEN, Assistant Cashier.
' EMORY MoOLlNTOOK, Actuary.
JOHN TATLOCK, .13., Assistant Actuary.
‘HABL-Ee‘ A, PRELLER, Auditor. ' WILLIAM MI . RICHARDS, Comptroller.
'3' CLIFFORD GRETSIN GER, Assistant Auditor. HENRY 8.,BROWN, Assistant Comptroller
JOHN C. ELLIOT, Superintendent of Domestic Agencies,
ED WARD LYMAN SHORT. General Solicitor.
Manon. Dmorons: ' ‘ . ’
‘ ELIAS J . MARSH. M. D- GRANVILLE M. WHITE, m p ' ‘ ,
. O. :S. WINSTON M. D. Consulting.
Itasca-s I; unwind. @eneral Agents. _
I
A" E9 @AMED LDDQI
Norwalk Chronicler