The Rhode Island Republican

From Summer and Winter Hours,
THE UNCLE.—By H. G. Bell.

I had an uncle once—a man
Of three score years and three—
And when my reason's dawn began
He'd take me on his knee,
And ofttimes talk whole winter nights
Things that seemed strange to me.

He was a man of gloomy mood,
And few his converse sought;
But it was said in solitude
His conscience with him wrought,
And there, before his mental eye
Some hideous vision brought.

There was not one in all the house
Who did not fear his frown,
Save I, a little careless child,
Who gambolled up and down,
And often peeped into his room,
And plucked him by the gown.

I was an orphan and alone
My father was his brother,
And all their lives I know that they
Had fondly loved each other—
And in my uncle's room there hung
The picture of my mother.

There was a curtain over it;
'Twas in a darkened place,
And few or none had ever looked
Upon my mother's face;
Or seen her pale, expressive smile
Of melancholy grace.

One night, I do remember well—
The wind was howling high,
And through the ancient corridor
It sounded drearily—
I sat and read in that old hall,
My uncle sat close by.

I read, but little understood
The words upon the book,
And with a side-long glance I marked
My uncle's fearful look,
And saw how all his quivering frame
With strong convulsion shook.

A silent terror o'er me stole,
A strange unusual dread,
His lips were white as bone, his eye
Sunk far down in his head:
He gazed on me, but 'twas the gaze
Of the unconscious dead

Then suddenly he turned him round,
And drew aside the veil
That hung before my mother's face—
"Perchance my eye might fail,
But never before that face to me
Had seemed so ghastly pale.

"Come hither boy!" my uncle said:
I gazed at the sound,
'Twas choked and stifled in his throat
And hardly utterance found—
"Come hither, boy!" then fearfully
He cast his eyes around.

"That lady was thy mother once,
Thou wert born only child—
Oh God! I've seen her when she held
Thee in her arms and smiled,
She smiled upon thy father, boy,
'Twas that which drove me wild!

"He was my brother, but his form
Was fairer far than mine;
I grudged not that—he was the prop
Of our ancestral line,
And manly beauty was to him
A token and a sign.

"Boy! I had loved her too—nay more
'Twas I who loved her first;
For months—for years—the golden thought
Within my soul was nursed;
He came,—he conquered,—they were wed—
My air-blown bubble burst!

"Then on my mind a shadow fell,
And evil hopes grew rife
The damning thought stuck in my heart,
And cut me like a knife,
That she, whom all my days I loved,
Should be another's wife!

"By heaven! it was a fearful thing
To see my brother now,
And mark the placid calm which sat
Forever on his brow,
That seemed in bitter scorn to say,
'I am more loved than thou!'

"I left my home—I left the land—
I crossed the raging sea;
In vain, in vain—where'er I turned,
My memory went with me;
My whole existence night and day
In memory seemed to be.

"I came again, I found thee here—
Thou'rt like thy father, boy—
He doated on that pale face there,
I've seen them kiss and toy,
I've seen him locked in her fond arms
Wrapt in delirious joy.

"He disappeared—draw nearer, child—
He died—no one knew how,
The murdered body ne'er was found;
The tale is hushed up now;
But there is one who rightly guessed
The hand that struck the blow.

"It drove her mad: yet not his death
No—not his death alone.
For she had clung to hope when all
Knew well that there was none;
No, boy! it was the sight she saw
That froze her into stone.

"I am thy uncle, child: why stare
So frightfully aghast,
The arras moves, but know'st thou not
'Tis nothing but the blast,
I too have had my fears like those,
But such vain fears are past

"I'll show thee what thy mother saw,
I feel 'twill ease my breast,
And this wild tempest-laden night
Suits with the purpose best.
Come hither—thou hast often sought
To open this old chest.

"It has a secret spring, the touch
Is known to me alone.
Slowly the lid is raised, and now—
"What see you that you groan
So heavily?—that thing is but
A bare ribbed skeleton.

A sudden crash—the lid fell down—
Three strides he backwards gave,
"O God! it is my brother's self
Returning from the grave!
His grasp of lead is on my throat—
Will no one help or save."

That night they laid him on his bed
In raving madness tossed,
He gnashed his teeth, and with wild oath
Blasphemed the Holy Ghost,
And ere the light of morning broke,
A sinner's soul was lost.