Evening Star Newspaper, September 19, 1896, Page 19

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1896—TWENTY-TWO PAGES. 19 PART I. ‘The night was an ideal one for telling ‘gtories before a flaming hearth, the house ‘was rich in old-time associations, and the cempany was responsive equally to the gay and the grave. The first was in March, the second was the home of my friend, Philip Letterby, and the third was the group of guests he annually entertains in observance of a hospitable custom that his family hax never permitted to lapse. ‘The conversation of such a circle will grav- {tate to sup-raatural exper.onee, and this One was no +x-eption. Many such had been related at second-hand, when Abner Let- terby, Philip's father, addressed us. He had been siitirg nearest the fire, thought- fully leaning forward upon his hickory staff. If close approach to the portals of the unknown should yteld foreknowledge of its strange laws, he could have spoken with abundant authority. “I have never told any of you,” he said, “why the old Budthorne place ts called ‘The House of Fear." As the grandson of the last owner who lived in it is here ht this is a good time to tell it.” You will oblige me very much by doing * responded the young man referred to. Philip had accidentally found him at the i cn that afternoun and had per- i him to become one of his guests. He was traveling for the benefit of his heaith aud had come to the neighborhood t the original homestead of his fam- He was about twenty-five years of pale and thin, but still holding fast ning residue of his normal robust- and strength of manhood. he house has been without @ tenant for almost forty years,” the old man be- gan in a quavering voiee that added much to the weird gravity of his narrative. “Martin ithorne, your grandfather, sold it to the father of Armstrong, the present owner, when the awful thing I-am going to tell of happened and went west. He advised Armstrong to build a new house at the other end of the farm and never to go into the old one. It was a matter of great wonder at the time, but the fact that no one can live in it has now naturally become a matter of course Martin had a brother John, the worst boy to rove about I ever saw. He couldn't be contented anywhere very long, and when their father died, he soon turned his share of the estate into money and went gadding about the world. One night he come heme to Martin’s house unexpectedly. Everyboly saw that he was on his last legs. He was in bed when I went over to see him, and I made up my mind he hadn't a week to live. He wanted to talk that night I went over, and he told us many Stories of his travels. He was one of these chaps that gather up all sorts of odd things, and he told Martin that several bexes of them would come in a few days. ‘The last city he had spent much time in, he said, was Bagdad, and he had made it his headquarters while lcoking around over the scenes told about im the ‘Arabian Nights.” That is a specimen of the crazy notions he was always taking. He told us he had bought from an Arab there the finest curiosity he had ever seen. It was a round ball made entirely of small pieces of bene cut from human skulls. The skulls Were of men and women who had died aw- ful deaths. Some of them were criminals that had been executed by being beheaded or tortured, some had been murdered, some Killed in earthquakes, storms and all sorts “Mrs. Budthorne ran in screaming.” of terrible accidents. Tne Arab had told him there was some speil on it, but John declared he didn’t put any faith in that. He advised Martin to keep it, as it might be valuable as a curiosity. “Jol died the next night. About ten days afterward the boxes came, and Mur- tin 3-nt for me to come over and help him urpack them, for we had tried to fancy what sort of trinkets the boy had wasted his money en. We soon saw that our wild- €st fancies fell short. Those boxes held the mest useless things that good dollars could be squandered for. I won't try to desezibe them, but will hurry on to the bone ball We were most anxious to find, and that we did come across at last. I stooped to lift it out, and, supposing a ball of bone would be light, I did not use much strength, but I was astonished to find that I did not even budge it, and that it required a good mvs- cle to get it out. I had never been as much surprised in my life. It was only about six inches in diameter, but tt would have out- welghed a solid ball of !ead of its size. I warned Martin of this as I handed it to him, but he was not prepared for such an extraordirary weight, and almost let it fall. “He put it on the table and rolled it about as we examined it. As John had said, it was made of small squares of bone, cemented together with wonderful skill, and yp hed until you could almost see yourself in ft. Martin at last took his hands from it, and then another extraordi- nary thing happened. Instead of lying still, it rolled around of its own accord un- til a small black circle came uppermost. "We put it back again and again, with the cirele down, and every time it righted itself. This circle seemed to be the mark of a lid, but we could not see any way to open it. Some words were burned into the bone beside this circle, but we saw that it would take better scholars than we were to read them. “As you may all imagin much interested in this ball, we had learned about in fact, no one knew such a thing had come. A few days after It came Martin copied the words on the lid and sent them to 2 friend of his who was a professor of languages in a New England college, ask- ing him te translate them. He replied in due time that the words were Arable, and meant in English: ‘A brave scion ot the third generation." What this could mean we hadn't the slightest idea, of we got very but kept ail it from every one; course, but supposed it referred to some oriental superstition. “The thing that most mystified us ab the ball. ote though, was the remarkable «1 _we decided one evening that, s really useless, we would break it open ard see what did make it so heavy. ‘This was an unlucky decision, and I know. Mr. Budthorne, that your grandfather wor- ried over it to the day of his death. Mar- tin siood on one side of the table holding the Yall tight in his hands, and I, standing on he other side, tried to force the edge of a cold chisel under the lid so as te pry it off. We never knew how it happened, Eether Martin touched a secret spring with his hands or I did with the chisel, but, | at wy rate, the lid suddenly flew open and ' hung back on an inside hinge. “We bent forward quickly and looked {mn to see what it held, and immediately }etraisntened up and looked at each other mpiy speechless, for the ball had noth- in it at all. It was as empty as any- thing could be. Martin put his hands it and exerted the force he had H ly done im lifting It, and it rose up with a jerk. “This Is a devil's own contrivance, Ab- ner,’ he sald. ‘Take it!’ id so, and dropped the diabolical thing cr the table. It had come down ural welght. Where Its extra- heft had gone we could not tell. | Certainiy nothing had fallen from it. I began to feel a queer sensation of fright |eoming over me, and I looked at Martin. ‘His face was getting pale, and he stared }at me wiidly, as he whispered: THE HOUSE OF FEAR. BY HOWARD MARELE HOKE. + (Copyright, 1806, by the Bacheller Syndicate.) | “What fs in this room, Abner?’ “Before I could answer Martin's hound, that had been sleeping beside the stove, sprang up with a howl, dashed for the door and began whining to get out. A cat that had been contentedly rubbing against our legs a few moments before, leaped upon the window sill, where, with her back arched and her fur bristled, she scratched frantically at the panes. “A moment later Mrs. Budthorne ran in screaming, followed a few seconds after by a kitchen maid and one of the hired men, still carrying a lantern, as he had just come tn from the barn. Their lips were stiff with fear, but they made us understand that they had become suddenly frightened without seeing anything to cause it. Not one of us could even try to quiet the others. We could scarcely keep from running out of the house. I had never been afraid before without any rea- son for it. The house was exactly as it “We buried it in the cellar.” had been. If we had seen anything like a ghost, it would not have been so un- natural, but that feeling of being terribly afraid of something, without knowing what it was, was awful. “We stood still awhile, hoping !t would pass away, but when we began to feel that the thing we were afraid of was death in some frightful shape, we could not stand it any longer, and we ran through the hall and out upon the porch, the two women screaming and the dog and cat snapping, snarling and howling. “The fear left us the moment we got out om the porch and we mea felt foolish enough, I can tell you. We were not long deciding that Mrs. Budthorne had had nightmare and her screaming had scared us all. Martin and I accordingly concluded to go in again. We did so, leaving the man with the women, but we got ne further than the door opening into the room where the devilish ball still lay upon the table. I felt aa if I was being led out to be tor- tured to death; Martin felt the same, and we ran out again as !f we were flying for our Hives ,and I believe to this day that we vere. No one could stay under the influ- erce of that spell for an hour without losing his mind or’ his life. It seems ridicu- lcus to credit such a thing nowadays, and kard to belizve that any one would give up to a fear that has no visible cause; but there the old house stands vacant, and you ray all think me a coward, but I would not go alone into it and stay for ten min- utes for a deed of all the land that can be scen from its roof. “Martin and all his folks stayed here at my house until they went west. He had been considerirg that move before this tring happened and that decided him. It was soon found that the spell is not on the house In the daytime, so we got his things out without difficulty. I can tell you, though, it was a big relief when we locked up the place and ieft it to itself.” “What became of the ball?” young Bud- thorne asked “Martin wanted to break it to pieces, but I told him that enough had happened from merely opening the lid, without risking something worse. So we buried it in the cellar of the house, and, I suppose, it is there yet, unless it has vanished, as I could easily believe.” “Could you tell me the exact place?” the young men asked further. “Do you wish to get it? earnestly. “Yes, I should like to have it. I sup- pose I have inherited my granduncle’s fondness for odd things, and I think this Arabian sphere would be quite an addition to my collection.” “T adv you to have nothing fo do with it,” Abner said, “but if you wish to see it, you can easily find it. Mar-in dug a hole for it in the front cellar. We were afraid that common earth would not hold it down, so we put a heavy stone slab over it” Budthorne said no more, but the old man pursued the inquiry: Will you go to the cellar for it?" “Yes, and take it hofhe with me, Who has the key of the house?"” “Armstrong, the present owner. I don’t think he will object to your having it.” This concluded the story-tellling, and we separated for the night. I was powerfully impressed by the old man’s narrative, and next morning I easily obtained Bud- thorne’s consent to accompany him to get the bone ball. We reached Armstrong’s place about 10 o'clock and found him in his frent yard. Budthorne presented a note of introduction from Philip and asked for the key, at the same time stating his pur- pese. The farmer did not object, but ad- vised us not to meddle with the matter. “I am inclined to believe it is all im- agination,” said the young man. “This old skull pone ball could not harm any one, ny rate, and I want it as a curiosity.” ‘Don't deceive yourself,” Armstrong dif- fered earnestly. “I tried to spend a night there once to decide the same doubt. I stayed just five minutes, and my doubt was fully satisfied. I have never tried it again. It may be imagination, but some- Abner inquired, ‘The Light Showed His Ghastly Face. thing horrible is In the old place to start it.” We were not turned from our purpose and he gave us the key. We followed the carriage drive along the creek. The “House of Fear” was in full view all the way, standing on a hill in cold relief against the leaden March sky that shed rain in occasional showers. We left the read and ascended the hill by a lane and arrived in front of the house. It stood back some distance from the lanes, in spa- cious grounds, and the whole was in such a c@ndition as long neglect would naturally leave it. It was a festering sore on the fair face of the landscape. Many palings had dropped from the front fence and re- minded me gruesemely of teeth missing from a skull. The gate would not move on the rusted hinges and we broke it down. The footpath to the porch was lost under the many deposits of fallen weeds and grass and the rank growth yet standing. The house, being of stone, had resisted de- cay, but the years had gnawed the wood- work as worms consume the flesh and leave the bone. PART I. I must confess that as we ascended the four water-soaked steps to the rotten porch before the door my sensations were not. as remote from fear as I would have wished, but Budthorne was unmoved. He seemed to treat the matter as a commonplace oc- currence. He put the key into the lock and tried to turn it as calmly as he would have done the same thing at his own home. The bolt resisting, I helped him until it slid back, and we went into the wide hallway. ‘The atmosphere of the place was sufficient to fill one with fear, but it was only ordi- nary disgust for damp and mold and slime. The house had become a freehold to them. We came provided with digging implements and a candle. Budthorne lighted the latter and we entered the room on the right. The loathsome things that fatten upon decay had glutted themselves there at their ease. Even the light that seeped through the slats of the shutters and the reeking panes seemed unclean. ‘After some groping we found the cellar stairway and went down the weakened steps with care. As may be imagined, the cellar was in worse condition than the house. I had become struck with my com- panion’s coolness, and when I looked at him then I saw no signs of the loathing I felt, as we walked to the front. The mold Was so thick upon the earthen floor that we tapped some time with the mattock before striking the stone. I held the lantern and Budthorne soon dug out the object of our search. He lifted it out of the pit with his hands without hesitation. As he held it up to the candle I could not help looking over my shoulder into the foul shadows, but whatever connection there was between the ball and the fear that came upon one in the night had been broken, at least for the time. ‘fhe sphere was covered with earth, Lut the young man tapped it with his finger nails and expressed his pleasure that it had not rotted. We returned to the side room upstairs, where he put the ball upon the wide win- dow sill and began to scrape off the dirt with his knife. He became completely ab- sorbed in the task and thought nothing of his fetid surroundings. My mind was di- vided between wonder at his interest and my repugnance. At last the sphere was clean and he held it up triumphantly. I could not help admiring the wonderful skill displayed in its construction, but at the same time was powerfully affected by thoughts of the places from which the tiny Lene cubes had come and of the frenzy of the brains they had helped to incase. ie “A brave scion of the third generation,’ he said to himself, as he examined the ‘Arabic words upon the lid, which still moved easily upon the hinge. At the instant an insight into his mo- tives came to me in a flash. He was not merely curious about the spkere and the blight it had brought upcn his house; he was a scicn of the third generation, and that he was a brave one his demeanor had alreeGy amply proved. I decided not to tell him of my guess then, and merely aa What will you do now?” “T shall leave this curiosity here and come back tonight to feel this fear that escz ped from it. I hope it is not all imag- inary, for it would add to its value if T could teil of an actual experience with Will it be agreeable if I come with you? “Perfectly.”” He placed the ball carefully in a corner, and we left the house, securely locking the dcor. We returned to Philip's and told the eagerly waiting company of the finding of the tall, but, as we had agreed to- gether, withheld our intentions for the night. About 8 o'clock In the evening we ex- cused ourselves from the other guests and started for the house. The ciouds had clecred from the sky and the waning moon was just rising. I shall not attempt to tell my expectations. They were not pleasant, yet my curlosity concerning the irfluence that had escaped from the sphere was strong, and I was further steadied in my purpose by Budthorne's placidity. As we walked along the road by the creek the house stood high above it in the moon- light like a spectral mansion, and when we entered the lane I began to hope that he would abandon the project. There were no prospects of this, however. He showed no more apprehension than if we had been on our way to a scene of gayety. When we reached the porch of the house he turned to me and sald, quietly: “I have led you to believe that I think this tale of the fear one has in this old house at night fs imaginary. I want to tell you now that I think it ts true. In I Saw It Fa , GlistenIng in the Moon- beams, a few moments it will have a grip on us. If your heart isn’t a stout one ths is the point to turn back.” “I want to experience it myself,” I an- swered. ‘Besides, I believe I have guessed your real purpose. You are a scion of the third generation, and you have a theory as to what such a person might accom- plish.” “Precisely. I am glad you have guessed it. I believe that nothing but bravery will compel this flend to go back into the ball. I mean to put it on the floor with the lid open and fight it out." “It looks plausible, but— “Have I the necessary bravery? That is the point to be decided, you think. To make a fair test I must be alone, and when I begin it I shall ask you to leave me. Your presence would be some stay to my courage, and, as I interpret the words on the ball, thescion of the third generation can conquer this demon of fear only by his unaided bravery. I shall tell you when I desire you to come out.” He was wholly unmoved, and he un- locked tre front door with a verfectly steady hand. I followed him into the hall, closing the door behind me at his direc- tion. In an instant both knew that Abner Letterby’s experience had not been fancied nor exaggerated. The hall was utterly dark, the odor was almost nauseating, and I shrank from the filth and decay around me, but it was not fear of these that seemed to close around my heart. It seemed to be an element of the air that filled one with an overpowering dread, as heat or cold produces its effect, except that this was an unnatural, inexplicable effect, as if one should have the sen: of freezing in intense heat or be sc or blistered by heat In a zero temperature. The house was quiet and peaceful, no hid- eous apparition appeared, yet I felt every nerve quivering with fear. Budthorne struck a match, lifted the candle from the floor just inside of the reom and lighted it. He held it up before him and we peered into the shadows. Nothing frightful appeared, but my fear increased as if I were inhaling it. Bud- thorne turned toward me and I looked at him over the candle flame. His face was drawn and his lips trembled slightly as he whispered: It is tru “Terribly true,” I replied. He walked to the corner where he had placed the ball and came back to the cen- ter of the room. He put it on the flocr and set the candle near it. He carefully opened the lid, then said: lease go now.” “I should not leave you alone here,” I said. “You are not a strong man, and ro one could stand a strain like this very mg” “I shall risk it.” . “But what is to be gained?” “Nothing, perhaps. Nevertheless, I am determined to test the meaning of those Arabic words.” I saw that I could not dissuade him. I felt my own will weaken more and more each moment and was fully convinced of the truth of old Abner’s statement that insanity or death would result from brav- ing this malignant influence. I could not, however, oppose young Budthorne’s wish, nor could I drag him bodily from the place. But I could bring Philip, and the two of us could compel him to come away. I went to the door thinking of getting Philip, of my cowardice in leaving Bud- thorne there and of escape from the place, all in a mental jumble, for the sensation that I was about to suffer-death in some horrible form, as described by Abner, had come upon me. I thought swiftly of many ways in which men had come to their end, but none of them seemed so full of terror as death brought on by this cai fear. I felt that the young man could stand this dreadful test, and from the sill I looked back, fully exnec nS to find him eseaping with me. But helwas standing ‘near the hall, erect, detérmitted and point- ing to the door. I fied'‘through the hail, flung open the front doér and°ran out upon the porch, S Us I was instantly reliéved of the super- natural fright. I turhed at once to go back and plead with Budthorne to come out, but he had followed and shut the door. I heard him léck it) inside; then came a noise as of some small metal ob- ject falling upon the bare ftoor far back in the long, dark hal: He’ had thrown away the key so that he could not quickly escape. I called to him, utging him to give up his mad experiment, but he did not answer me. I leaped from’ the porch and ran most of the way to Philip's home. ‘fhe company was sitting before the fire, and my excited entrance broke up an ani- mated discussion. When I had told of the trial Budthorny was making Abner sprang up and exclaimed: “He cannot live an hour in that place. Philip, you and Mr. Richards must use force if he will not come out willingly. “I came to ask Philip to go with me, I said. “I could not persuade him to aban- don this dangerous experiment.” Philip and I were soon hurrying tcward the house. Armstrong hailed us as we were passing his home. “Isn’t that young fellow in the old house to-night?” he asked. “Yes,” Philip answered, and-hurriedly ex- ined our mission, ll go with yo! When we arrived at the porch of the house I called Budthorne, but he did not answer. I called again as loudly as 1 could, but the silence inside was unbroken. With a sickening apprehension of what had oc- curred I threw ray weight against the door, but it resisted. Philip and Armstrong help- ed me, the bolt snapped with a loud noise and the door crashed inward. I sprang in- to the hall, but stopped in astonishment. The air was still foul and close, but it had Leen relieved of the element of fear. The quietness of the side room, however, gave me a foreboding entirely different from the unnatural dread of death. This room was almost dark, the candle having burned into the stick during the hour of my absence, and shedding then only a@ circle of light upon the grimy celling. We stopped upon the sill and strained our eyes into the shad- ows. It required but an instant to see what had happened, and we sprang forward. Budthorne lay upon the floor with his right hand resting limply upon the ball, the lid of which was tightly closed. I bent over him and called, but he did not move. Armstrong caught up the candle, raised the tallow end higher in the stick, while Philip and I turned the prostrate man upon his back. The light showed his ghastly face, set with a desperate determination, and his eyes open and staring with a vacancy that filled us with a natural dread, I put my kand over his heart and cried: “He 1s alive. We must. get him out of this at once.”” We carried him cut upon the porch, and Armstrong hvrried away to bring a team. When he arrived with it, and Budthorne, still"insensible, had been carefully placed In the straw bed, I asked Philip to take him home as rapidly as possible and secure medical attention, adding that I would re- iat crazy experiment are you bent 2” he asked. None,” I answered. “I intend to put that fiendiah baig-where it will da,po more barm.” “Make it-sare,” he commanded,-as they drove away. I walked back into the hall of the house I freely conf + with some nervousness, But I quickly discovered that it was groundless. Budthorne had driven out the demon of fear beyond all doubt. I went into the side room and the expiring flame of the candle dimly revealed the bone ball upon the floor. I put my hands upon it to lift it, and could not help springing erect ht amazement. The wonderful weight Abner Letterby had spoken of had come back to it. With much ‘fear that it might fall and break and the spell escape again, 1 picked it up with great care, then blew out the can- die and walked cut upon the porch. At the foot of the hill on which the house stands the creek has cut its way through many strata ofvrocks, thus forming a nar- rew gorge, at the bottom of which the wa- ter ts very désp. f decided tegizop the ball Into the stream there, and hagtened to the place. In order that it,might not strike any of the jagged rocks-and”be broken, I lay flat upon the ground and Stretched my arms far out over the chasm. Whether the contact of my hands renewed the spell or my excited nerves reproduced the sensa- tion so recently experienced, I do not know, but an unnatural fear seemed to come out of the moonlighted air and death in fright- ful forms seemed to throng the quiet night. I released the sphere, and, with a deep sense of relief, 1 saw it fall, glistening in the moonbeams; there was a splash and an echoing gurgle in the gorge, and all was still. I rose and hastened to Philip's home, rejoicing that the spell had been broke: but anxious for the brave young. fellow who had accomplished that desired end. I found him very ill. He lay at Philip's home for many weeks on the verge of death from acute’ brain fever. He finally grew well enough to be taken to his we ern home. He has never entirely recover- ed, for the strain has left a dangerous af- fe tion of the nerves which forbids all ref- nce by himself to his trial or any ques- ton from others. His success, however, was complete. The last time I visite Philip we went. together to. the former “House of Fear.” It is now one of the brightest and handsomest homes of the locality, and one of Armstrong's sons lives there in undisturbed quietness and con- tentment. The End. —— ee Panorama of Hell. From London Society. “Hell” 1s a colossal panoramic picture, which is now approaching completion, and 1s the work of some Hungarian and Italian limrers, whose combined forces executed the celebrated tableau. “Hell” promises to be as graphic an il- lustration of the sulphuric regions of the damned as the imagination of those con- cerred in the awful conception will allow. Of course, it will be a fantastic Imagina- tion, and the spectators will be left as completely in the dark as-heretofore relu- tive to the actual scenic attributes and life and society in the regions of perpetual torment. ‘Still, the panorama is possessed of no mean artistic merit, and so thoroughly !m- pressed are the painters of the excellence of their infernal achievements that they have decided to commission three of their number to repair to Rome to invite King Humbert to the show. The belief pre- vails in artistic circles in Hungary that Hembert will respond favorably to the call, despite its satanic and sulphuric as- scciations, the more so as his majesty has intimated’ his intention of visiting the millennial exhibition in the autumn. = Anes Poor Lo at the Dentist’s, From the Boston Herald. “An Indian came to my office and had a tooth filled and another extracted,” said a Waterville, Me., dentist Monday. This den- tist went on to say that he had been prac- ticing dentistry for over thirty years, and this is the first time in all his experience he has ever done any work for an Indian, or had ever known of an ffidian having arything done to his teeth. ———_+ 04 Not Yet Decided. From Truth. 5 “Oh, Nell, I have just heard of your mar- riage. Did you make a good match?” “I believe that our families have not de- cided yet.” ——_—_eoifi__0t __ Modern Sefvants. From Fifegende Blatter. Mistress (to newly engaged servant girl)-— “I have read your testimonials; I am satis- fied with them. You may consider your- self engaged. You can go into the kitchen and attend to your duties there. Servant—“Yes, madam.” Mistress (three hours afterward)—“Well, why are you not getting dinner?” Servant—“I have been waiting for your return visit.” PROPERTY BY WILL Some Interesting Facts as Related by Register McGill, WHAT IS DONE WITH RECORDED PAPERS Law About the Disposition of Real and Personal Property. SAFE KEEPING OF WILLS HAT BECOMES OF all the wills that are daily reported as filed in this office?” asked a Star reporter of Register McGill as the latter finished the examination of some subscribing witnesses to a document by which a citizen re- cently deceased had contemplated dispos- ing of all his earthly possessions. nce filed in this office,” said the register, “remains among the records and cannot be removed. As soon as filed, dup- licate typewritten copies verbatim et lite- ratim are made of each will. The original is then carefully filed in the safe and not removed until the subscribing witnesses ap- pear for the purpose of proving their signa- tures. Subsequently a petition 1s, or rather should be, filed in this court praying that the will be admitted to probate and record, and that letters testamentary issue to the person named therein as executor.” “If a will fails to nominate an executor, by whom is the petition you have men- tioned made?” “Usually by the next of kin or some per- son in interest, as a beneficiary or creditor, who asks that letters of administration cum testamento annexo; that is, with a copy of the will annexed, be granted to the petitioner or some person or persons, usual- ly the one that would be entitled to admin- ister in the event of the deceased having died intestate; that is, without having made a will. After the court has signed an order admitting the will to probate and recor the same is recorded by expert clerks in oné of our large volumes, the recording being as near an exact copy of the original as possible, every error, interlineation or mis- spelled word being recorded as written. The copyist cannot undertake to edit the work, or make the slightest change In punctuation or grammatical construction. After being recorded the original will and the record copy are curefully compared by experienced clerks, and then the original raper is filed away In our vaults. The lat- ter contain all wills probated and recorded, as well as many which have not been, since the year 151, with possibly a few excep- tions." Important Papers Neglected. ‘Ys this course followed with all wills filed, in this court?" “Unfortunately, no. With the uninform- ed and inexperienced the idea ts general that it 1s only necessary to deposit a will in this office and there they stop. We have among our files a very large number of wills with which nothing has been done since filing. They have been accumulat- irg each year, and, although some of them apparently dispose of considerable property, they remain neglected and with- out attention. The danger from this might prove very serious or work great incon- venience, should the subscribing witnesses die or move to parts unknown. “Search for them or for people acquaint- ed with their handwriting might, as you see, involve much time and expense. Then, too, there is no permanent record of the wills, hence their loss, if such should o- cur, which is hardly probable, would be irreparable. There is one case now be fore the court in which the will was filed several years ago, and the parties are row, and have been for several months, trying to find the witnesses to the docu~ ment, but so far without suc ne “About how many wills are filed here in the course of a year and what pro- portion of them remain unrecorded and unprobated? “In the year 1895, which may serve as an illustration, 333 original wills were filed in this office. Of this number have re- ceived attention at the hands of the par- ties interested, but with the remaining sixty wills no steps have been taken toward probating and recording. In some instances it is doubtless thought unnecessary to pro- bate the will, and we often find that where a will passes title to some small property er-estate the beneficiaries are not able to pay for the proceedings and their ex- How to Probate a WIL “What are the requisites of an applica- tion for probate of a will or for adminis- tration on an estate?” “The rules are clear on this point. Every application must be made in writing and set forth clearly the citizenship and residence of the petitioner, the right In which he makes the application, the date of death of deceased,as well as his domicile, the estimated value of the personal estate, the character thereof and where situated, and whether the decedent died testate, that Is, leaving a will, or intestate, without making a will; the names of the next kin, whether residents, adults or mino1 if mi- nors, their respective ages. Under an act of Ccrgress approved January 17, 1887, if a will requests that an executor be not required te give bend for the performance of his duties, the only security required is one sufficient to secure the payment of the debts due by the testator. Hence, in such instances, the application must state the amount of the testator's debts.” “You speak only of personal estate. Does not the petition have to set forth the valuc of the real estate of the deceased?” “No, since it has been repeatedly de- cided ‘that the Supreme Court of tne Dis- trict, upon the application for probate of a will, has no authority to determine its suf- ficiency to pass real estate. The law of wills and of probate as existing in Mary- lard on February 22, 1801, is the law of the District of Columbia, excepting as since altered by Congress. "The older laws of the state of Maryland concerning wills, executors and guardians, were amended or codified by the statute of 1798, ch. 101. This statute did not authorize the probate of wills of real estate, but it made full and minute provisions for the probate in the Orphans’ Court of ‘any will or codicil con- taining any disposition relative to goods, chattels or personal estate. Effect of a Probate. “By the act of Congress of July 9, 1888, it was provided that the record of any will or codicil heretofore or hereafter recorded im this office ‘which shall have been ad- mitted to probate shall be prima facie evi- dence of the contents or due execution of such will and codicils.’ Under this act it was contended that effect was given to the probate of a will in reference to a title to real estate. But the Supreme Court of the United States at its last session, in the case oi Campbell vs. Porter, held that this construction of the statute was_ erro- neous; hence we are at present without a statute covering wills devising real estate as far as the probate of such wills is con- cerned. At the last session of Congress a remedial bill was introduced to cure this Gefect, but it has not yet matured into ee “What is the distinction between real estate and personal estate?’ “By real property is meant land, and gen- erally whatever is erected or growing upon or affixed to land, such as houses and build- ings; also rights, issuing out of, annexed to, exercisable within or about the same; while the essential idea of personal property is that of property in a thing movable or sep- arable from the realty or of perishability. This includes household furniture, wearing apparel, stocks, bonds and the like. Real estate always passes on the death of the ewner to the heir and not the executor. The latter, as such, controls only the per- sonal estate.” “How many witnesses are required in the District of Columbta to a will devising real estate?” “The law in force in this District requires that all devises und bequests of any lands or tenements shall be in writing and signed by the testator, or by some other person in his presence, and by his express direction, th MRS. SENATOR WARREN. — Why Paine’s Celery Compound is Famed in Washington Families, I will wait until hemselves. It is now time, ff ever, in thousands of cases, » kéep that promise. Nothing shouid now {interfere with buflding up the w Now ts the time of year wi neuralgia must od nerves. fall,” ye cured, Ww! yn di they have promised -n rheumatism and Mility and nery- ‘This most remarkable of all known remedies has won the sincere approval of the most pra part of the community. Here eof T romsive county 1 known: was persuaded to try your Pal pound in the early spring when in a condition. ‘The duties devolving upon the wife of ousness must be checked, when bad health must be | an official in public life are naturally very exhaust- mended—if one hopes to get well. ing and T was tired out and nervous when T ‘The natural, unchecked course of disease is from | menced using the remedy. I take pleasure in testl- bad to worse as the fall and winter wear on, fying to the great benefit T received from its use, It {s not that rbeuratism, neuralzia, insomnia | and can truthfully say that Iam in almost perfoct end kidney troubles are bard to cure—Patne’s in. If Lever tind myself running down -y compound has made a host of sufferers well I! certainly give it ane trial aud will —but people make themselves chronic invalids by autime recommend it to every one need- reglecting the first symptoms of disease, ‘Thousands of lives that are now fast wearing out, were in eae pains over the kid nervous strength, and cure perma and more frequently recurring attacks of beadache a tion, sleeplessness, poor appetite, ¢1 and shall be attested and subscribed in his presence by three or four credible es, or ‘else they shall be utterly void and ould be proton: ins! nd indigestion. There is a! of no effect.” As to Personal Property. il b; tablished wh. o hi ai “Does a will of personalty have to be kewise witnessed “By the law of Maryland, and conse- quently of the District of Columbia, a will of personal property need not be atte sses, but might be es- n Offered for probate by suit- ot even the y sub witn ib’ ble proof. r seal of the is will to operate isposition of his effec “Is it testator is ©: will of personality, nor need it in such a ci sential, however, is proof th: intended the paper-wriling prono: after his death himseif. signature, What the d fe for one not versed in law tmess- ntial be written, It is a fact verified by the pra of the best compound siclans, and by thousands of personal testi nce used to stop those ials that Paine'’s celery compound makes new, ys, to build up the rundown | pure blood, builds up the nervous aystem and cures y those more | Cisease w all other remedies have falled. Its absolute reliability ts shown by Its steady - t by “tfained physicians and tn homes lute relief from nervous prostra- | 1 yy by Its unquestioned power of making people well, After Enters taining Batavia Fifteen Years. pomtence New York Press Snow of Batavia is mourning the loss of the most remarkable pet that has been brought to this part of the coun try for a long time. It was a parrot, and ‘@ | had a past as well as a wonderful person- ality. When the doctor was in Egypt in the days of Emin Pasha he made the ac = qvaintance of that potentat nd on leay- ing for home said he would like to take with Fim one of the small gray parrots that are peculiar to the Nile country es: pecially ‘3,83 | 0M account of their intelligence. So the viceroy sent out an attendant, who soon returned with one. It was called Pasha, in to draw his own will?” seid pie hong as all that has been “In answer to that question I would |“ pouy Chula cui nd eer say that there is no branch of law which | en, nest Arabic. nna ee eaBeclally sw better illustrates that ‘no man should | ¢i English enough to ush he soon act as his own lawyer.’ It is particu-| cual to some people. he larly true in the District of Columbia, | SWear in English. Wher never. i to where our laws differ so materially from | he gone ov. of “gts “is one was to those of nearly every state in the Union, | vituperation it oie style of that one not thoroughly conversant thei = wes he se of the with should not underiake to make a will involving title to property. of an attorney should always be sought in the preparation of a_ will. were strictly observed there would be les The services If this rule Nile that was adepted for the purpos Pasha liked America, and lived here fifteen years. The bird was a good friend when acquaintance was once formed, but a ca ual visitor was his special sversion, and he disappoin*meats, annoyances and failures | ™de ure of the strongest notes of disa ‘a = proval when subjected to any intrusio: BE eee only too | Pris vocabularly, eras large, and he knew ‘ Care of Wiis. Sar P enP Se come penn oven, coals “How soon after death should a will be} But he was so unfortunate as to take flea?” Into close friendship a man of the family “It is customary to file such soon after | Who had consumption, and caught the dis- burial of the testator. But before doing so | ©25¢ from him. A violent hemorrhage end- it is lawful for any private person to open and read the will in the presence of any near relatives, and immediately thereafter it should be delivered at this office.” “Is there any penalty for failure to de- liver a will to the register?” hi the court.’ “Can wills be left here for safekeeping “Yes, sir. im, he ii If any person in whose cus- tody a will has been intrusted shall will- ful!y neglect to file the same, or to deliver it to some executor named therein, for the space of three calendar months after the death of the testator shall be known to liable to suffer tine imposed by during the lifetime of the maker?” “The laws of the District of Columbia do not provide for the deposit or safekeeping of a will during the lifetime of the maker, but as much advantage is to be gained from having a safe depository for wills, avoiding much search &nd inquiry after the ed Pash@s life. —<e2______ Another Dog Story, From the New York Times. Nell is a dog. She has a special delight for taking walks with members of the fam- fly. This pleasure is not granted her as often as she would like. That is not he- cause she is left behind, but from the in- ability of the members of the family to keep walking constantly, which would be Nell’s idea of perfect happiness. Oh day the weather, the atmospheric conditions, everything, ‘even to her own feelings, seemed to Nell to indicate that a walk would be an unusual pleasure. She went to one of her numerous mistresses and said so as plainly as a dog could say anything. Her actions spoke louder than words could. It was of no avail, but Nell was not to be death of the maker, we recently adopted a | discouraged. She stopped, evidently to plan for receiving wills for safekeeping. | think a moment. Then she bounded up- Now any will can be left in this office and | Stairs, to be gone only a few moments, the same will be placed in the vaults and a index record made for ready but not for public inspection. This rule was thought to be necessary be- cause of the prejudice that exists against having it known during the lifetime of the testator that a will has been made. Upon filing such will, a receipt is given, upon surrender of which, and identification of the party presenting it, the will may be obtained at any time. Pe reference, ermanent From the Chronicle-Telegtayh. Rubberneck Bill- ‘Some of the boys found a greaser back of the Saint’s Rest saloon a while ago with a bowie buried in his back clean to the handle.” Pieface Joc—“Wot of it?” “Wy, weapon.” the sheriff come along an’ took him before Judge Beasiy, and the judge | fined him $# for carrying a concealed when ‘she was heard again coming quietly and evidently with great care. Straight down and into the room she came, and laid her mistress’ hat, which she had found on the bed in an upper room, on her lap. ‘There was a bird in the trimmings of the hat, but it had been carried so carefully that she had not touched it once. ‘This is an entirely up-to-date story, and it stops before the climax is reached.” It is not told whether the walk followed, but Nell's m tress says that Nell is the brightest cog that ever lived. Frem th N a Young husband—“My dear, after a year of unremitting labor and closest economy we have, 1 find, succeeded in saving about $300. What shall we do with it?” Young w Well, my dear, we both need rest. Let's go to a summer resort for a week. IN From Fliegende Blatter. THE DOGS’ HAIRDRESSING SHOP.