How to Tell a Story and other Essays, 1899 | Page 6

dat!"
En he listen--en listen--en de win' say (set your teeth together and
imitate the wailing and wheezing singsong of the wind),
"Bzzz-z-zzz"--- en den, way back yonder whah de grave is, he hear a
voice! he hear a voice all mix' up in de win' can't hardly tell 'em 'part--"
Bzzz-zzz-- W-h-o--g-o-t--m-y--g-o-l-d-e-n arm? --zzz--zzz-- W-h-o

g-o-t m-y g-o-l- d-e-n arm!" (You must begin to shiver violently now.)
En he begin to shiver en shake, en say, "Oh, my! OH, my lan'! "en de
win' blow de lantern out, en de snow en sleet blow in his face en mos'
choke him, en he start a-plowin' knee-deep towards home mos' dead, he
so sk'yerd--en pooty soon he hear de voice agin, en (pause) it 'us comin'
after him! "Bzzz--zzz--zzz--W-h-o--g-o-t m-y--g-o-l-d-e-n--arm?"
When he git to de pasture he hear it agin closter now, en a-comin'!--
a-comin' back dah in de dark en de storm--(repeat the wind and the
voice). When he git to de house he rush up-stairs en jump in de bed en
kiver up, head and years, en lay dah shiverin' en shakin'--en den way
out dah he hear it agin!--en a-comin'! En bimeby he hear (pause--awed,
listening attitude)--pat--pat--pat--hit's acomin' up-stairs! Den he hear de
latch, en he know it's in de room!
Den pooty soon he know it's a-stannin' by de bed! (Pause.) Den--he
know it's a-bendin' down over him--en he cain't skasely git his breath!
Den-- den--he seem to feel someth' n c-o-l-d, right down 'most agin his
head! (Pause.)
Den de voice say, right at his year--"W-h-o g-o-t--m-y--g-o-l-d-e-n
arm?" (You must wail it out very plaintively and accusingly; then you
stare steadily and impressively into the face of the farthest-gone
auditor--a girl, preferably--and let that awe-inspiring pause begin to
build itself in the deep hush. When it has reached exactly the right
length, jump suddenly at that girl and yell, "You've got it!")
If you've got the pause right, she'll fetch a dear little yelp and spring
right out of her shoes. But you must get the pause right; and you will
find it the most troublesome and aggravating and uncertain thing you
ever undertook.

MENTAL TELEGRAPHY AGAIN
I have three or four curious incidents to tell about. They seem to come
under the head of what I named "Mental Telegraphy" in a paper written
seventeen years ago, and published long afterwards.--[The paper
entitled "Mental Telegraphy," which originally appeared in Harper's
Magazine for December, 1893, is included in the volume entitled The
American Claimant and Other Stories and Sketches.]
Several years ago I made a campaign on the platform with Mr. George
W. Cable. In Montreal we were honored with a reception. It began at

two in the afternoon in a long drawing-room in the Windsor Hotel. Mr.
Cable and I stood at one end of this room, and the ladies and gentlemen
entered it at the other end, crossed it at that end, then came up the long
left-hand side, shook hands with us, said a word or two, and passed on,
in the usual way. My sight is of the telescopic sort, and I presently
recognized a familiar face among the throng of strangers drifting in at
the distant door, and I said to myself, with surprise and high
gratification, "That is Mrs. R.; I had forgotten that she was a
Canadian." She had been a great friend of mine in Carson City, Nevada,
in the early days. I had not seen her or heard of her for twenty years; I
had not been thinking about her; there was nothing to suggest her to me,
nothing to bring her to my mind; in fact, to me she had long ago ceased
to exist, and had disappeared from my consciousness. But I knew her
instantly; and I saw her so clearly that I was able to note some of the
particulars of her dress, and did note them, and they remained in my
mind. I was impatient for her to come. In the midst of the hand-
shakings I snatched glimpses of her and noted her progress with the
slow- moving file across the end of the room; then I saw her start up
the side, and this gave me a full front view of her face. I saw her last
when she was within twenty-five feet of me. For an hour I kept
thinking she must still be in the room somewhere and would come at
last, but I was disappointed.
When I arrived in the lecture-hall that evening some one said: "Come
into the waiting-room; there's a friend of yours there who wants to see
you. You'll not be introduced--you are to do the recognizing without
help if you can."
I said to myself: "It is Mrs. R.; I shan't have any trouble."
There