THEY called it the room of the Evil Thought.It was really the pleas-antest room in the house, and when the place had been used as the rectory, was the minister's study.It looked out on a mournful clump of larches, such as may often be seen in the old-fash-ioned yards in Michigan, and these threw a tender gloom over the apartment.
There was a wide fireplace in the room, and it had been the young minister's habit to sit there hours and hours, staring ahead of him at the fire, and smoking moodily.The replenishing of the fire and of his pipe, it was said, would afford him occupation all the day long, and that was how it came about that his parochial duties were neglected so that, little by little, the people became dis-satisfied with him, though he was an eloquent young man, who could send his congregation away drunk on his influence.However, the calmer pulsed among his parish began to whisper that it was indeed the influence of the young minister and not that of the Holy Ghost which they felt, and it was finally decided that neither animal magnetism nor hypnotism were good substitutes for religion.
And so they let him go.
The new rector moved into a smart brick house on the other side of the church, and gave receptions and dinner parties, and was punctilious about making his calls.The people therefore liked him very much -- so much that they raised the debt on the church and bought a chime of bells, in their enthu-siasm.Every one was lighter of heart than under the ministration of the previous rector.
A burden appeared to be lifted from the com-munity.True, there were a few who con-
fessed the new man did not give them the food for thought which the old one had done, but, then, the former rector had made them uncomfortable! He had not only made them conscious of the sins of which they were already guilty, but also of those for which they had the latent capacity.A strange and fatal man, whom women loved to their sor-row, and whom simple men could not under-stand! It was generally agreed that the parish was well rid of him.
"He was a genius," said the people in commiseration.The word was an uncom-plimentary epithet with them.
When the Hanscoms moved in the house which had been the old rectory, they gave Grandma Hanscom the room with the fire-place.Grandma was well pleased.The roaring fire warmed her heart as well as her chill old body, and she wept with weak joy when she looked at the larches, because they reminded her of the house she had lived in when she was first married.All the forenoon of the first day she was busy putting things away in bureau drawers and closets, but by afternoon she was ready to sit down in her high-backed rocker and enjoy the comforts of her room.
She nodded a bit before the fire, as she usually did after luncheon, and then she awoke with an awful start and sat staring before her with such a look in her gentle, filmy old eyes as had never been there before.
She did not move, except to rock slightly, and the Thought grew and grew till her face was disguised as by some hideous mask of tragedy.
By and by the children came pounding at the door.
"Oh, grandma, let us in, please.We want to see your new room, and mamma gave us some ginger cookies on a plate, and we want to give some to you."The door gave way under their assaults, and the three little ones stood peeping in, wait-ing for permission to enter.But it did not seem to be their grandma -- their own dear grandma -- who arose and tottered toward them in fierce haste, crying:
"Away, away! Out of my sight! Out of my sight before I do the thing I want to do!
Such a terrible thing! Send some one to me quick, children, children! Send some one quick!"They fled with feet shod with fear, and their mother came, and Grandma Hanscom sank down and clung about her skirts and sobbed:
"Tie me, Miranda.Make me fast to the bed or the wall.Get some one to watch me.
For I want to do an awful thing!"
They put the trembling old creature in bed, and she raved there all the night long and cried out to be held, and to be kept from doing the fearful thing, whatever it was -- for she never said what it was.
The next morning some one suggested tak-
