University of Virginia Library

AN EXTRAORDINARY STOVE-PIPE.

THE Cobleighs put up the sitting-room stove Thursday. Mr. Cobleigh had been dreading the thing for a month. He wanted to hire a regularly built stove-erector to do the job; but work has been scarce at his shop, and he felt that he could not afford to hire. Mrs. Cobleigh got down the pipe for him from the garret, and helped him to get the stove out of the closet. No accident occurred during these operations. But the unusual circumstance did not encourage Mr. Cobleigh: on the contrary, it inspired him with greater dread. When every thing was in readiness to put up the pipe,

he walked about the machinery with considerable uneasiness, and eyed it with undisguised apprehension. Several times he picked up a link; and then, while a sudden tremor would flash over his frame, he would drop it again.

"Come," said Mrs. Cobleigh, who, woman-like, knew more than Solomon about putting up a stove, "get to work now. It can be done in a minute if you'll only set right to work at it."

Mr. Cobleigh turned pale.

"Curse this being poor!" he muttered between his clinched teeth.

Then he took hold of the link whose flat end indicated that it belonged to the stove. It sat on its place with the ease of long familiarity. He looked at his wife with a nameless fear on his face. Then he picked up the next link, spread apart his legs, compressed his lips, and proceeded to join it to the other. He had scarcely brought the two ends together when the one slipped over, and enclosed the other. Another link was to be put on before the elbow could be used, and he had to use a chair to reach the place. His face was very white now; and his limbs trembled to that degree, that he could hardly keep his place on the chair. He took the link into his shaking hands, and raised it to its place. It went on at once. The appearance of his face was simply ghastly now. His lips were ashen; his eyes flamed with a sickening terror.

"For Heaven's sake, hand me that elbow!" he hoarsely whispered.

His wife promptly complied. But his hand shook to such an extent, that he could not hold it; and it fell to the floor. She picked it up, and again extended it to him.

"For pity sake, Cobleigh, what is the matter?" she ejaculated as his deathly face appeared to her.

"Sh! don't speak!" he gasped in a shaking voice.

He applied the elbow. It went on in a flash.

"The other link," he hysterically said with a half-suppressed scream.

Sick at heart with apprehension, and perplexed in mind, the unhappy woman hastened to comply.

Her husband seized the last link. There was not only no color in his face, but his hair stood right up on his head; the perspiration hung in great beads from his forehead; the chair on which he stood fairly rattled beneath the quiver of his person. He raised the link; placed it in position; gave it a push. It went straight to its place; and at the same time he shoved the other end in the chimney-hole.

A short, sharp cry resounded through the room: there was a quick movement of the chair, and the unhappy man lay senseless on the floor. The neighbors were alarmed, and flocked in, and picked him up and laid him on the bed, while a doctor was

sent for, and restoratives actively applied. But it was several hours before he returned to full consciousness. The shock to his nervous system had been very, very great. The first words he gave utterance to were addressed to his wife,—

"Was it all a fearful dream, Matilda?"

"What, John?" asked the fond wife.

"The stove, the sitting-room stove. Is it up?"

"Why, yes, John. It is up."

"Did—did I do it?"

"Yes, John, you did it."

He put the trembling hands over the white face, and burst into tears.