l manner. He said I
was cruel and that some day I would be called to account for the way I
treated people. I laughed outright at this, but at the same time I
felt a vague sense of uneasiness which even yet I have not dispelled.

_Night_: A remarkable thing has happened. I had gone to my room to
dress for dinner and I was standing before the mirror tying my tie. I
had begun the usual procedure that one follows, when I noticed that no
such action was recorded in the mirror. True, there was my reflection
in the glass, but it followed none of the movements that I made. It
was immobile!

I extended my hand to touch the reflection and encountered nothing but
the polished surface of the mirror. Then I noticed a truly remarkable
thing. The reflection in the mirror wore no tie! I stepped back
aghast. Was this an illusion? Had my mind and vision been affected by
some malady that I was not aware of? Impossible! Then I regarded the
reflection with a more careful scrutiny. There were a number of
differences between it and myself. For one thing it wore a stubby
growth of beard on its face. I was positive that I had visited the
barber that very day and passed my hand across my chin to verify this.
It encountered nothing but smooth skin. The lips of the man in the
mirror drooped in a display of gnarled, yellow fangs, while my own
bared nothing but two rows of gleaming, well-cared-for teeth.

I was filled simultaneously with a feeling of disgust and fear, and
looked for further discrepancies. I found them. The feet and hands
were abnormally large, and the clothing of the thing was old, baggy,
and covered with filth.

I dared not stay longer. I tied the tie as best I could and descended
hurriedly to dinner.

Aug. 4th. _Morning_: I awoke feeling jaded and tired. My friend in the
mirror is still with me. Ordinarily the reflection of myself, in bed,
is caught in the mirror, but not so this morning. Instead, I saw that
the dweller within had, like myself, been having a night's rest. I
hope he slept better than I did, for my own night was a series of
fitful, restless tossings.

"Good morning," I said, rising.

When I moved, he moved. As I advanced toward the mirror he drew closer
to me. I stopped and surveyed him. He resembled me only remotely--I
hope. I smiled, and he responded with a wolfish twist of his mouth. I
extended my hand as if I wanted to shake hands with him, but he drew
back as if from fire. I can't understand the terror