ror? Perhaps the guilty one did not dare to leave Atlanta, for the
chimes sang in minor chords on several nights after. The old policeman
who kept ward in an antiquated guardhouse that stood opposite the
church--it was afterward shaken down by earthquake--said that he saw a
human form, which he would avouch to be that of the murdered man, though
it was wrapped in a cloak, stalk to the doors, enter without opening
them, glide up the winding stair, albeit he bent neither arm nor knee,
pass the ropes by which the chimes were rung, and mount to the belfry. He
could see the shrouded figure standing beneath the gloomy mouths of
metal. It extended its bony hands to the tongues of the bells and swung
them from side to side, but while they appeared to strike vigorously they
seemed as if muffled, and sent out only a low, musical roar, as if they
were rung by the wind. Was the murderer abroad on those nights? Did he,
too, see that black shadow of his victim in the belfry sounding an alarm
to the sleeping town and appealing to be avenged? It may be. At all
events, the apparition boded ill to others, for, whenever the chimes were
rung by spectral hands, mourners gathered at some bedside within hearing
of them and lamented that the friend they had loved would never know them
more on earth.

THE SWALLOWING EARTHQUAKE

The Indian village that in 1765 stood just below the site of Oxford,
Alabama, was upset when the news was given out that two of the squaws had
given simultaneous birth to a number of children that were spotted like
leopards. Such an incident betokened the existence of some baneful spirit
among them that had no doubt leagued itself with the women, who were at
once tried on the charge of witchcraft, convicted, and sentenced to death
at the stake, while a watch was to be set on the infants, so early
orphaned, lest they, too, should show signs of malevolent possession. The
whole tribe, seventeen hundred in number, assembled to see the execution,
but hardly were the fires alight when a sound like thunder rolled beneath
their feet, and with a hideous crack and groan the earth opened and
nearly every soul was engulfed in a fathomless and smoking pit-all,
indeed, save two, for a couple of young braves who were on the edge of
the crowd flung themselves flat on the heaving ground and remained there
until the earthquake wave had passed. The hollow afterward filled with
water and was called Blue Pond. It is popularly supposed