MR. BOSBYSCHELL MAKES A TERRIBLE CONFESSION.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 5504, 16 November 1878, Page 2 (Supplement)

MR. BOSBYSCHELL MAKES A TERRIBLE CONFESSION.

(From tho Burlington Hatclcye.) It wm vcrv late Saturday night whim Mr. Boshvschell came home. It was very nearly Sunday morning. He did 'not cumo m the usual way. Ho did not upon the gate—he climbed over it,. although there was no apparent reasoo why ho should get into tho yard in that way. 'vnd ho climbed on tho gate with mi affectation of groat stratth aud with n reality of gr?at difficulty. He slammed hiiu-elf up against tho gate with great violence and a t rrifie crash, and closed ono eyu aad looked around hiui at the irn'd-ight Bolitii'.lo and Bald *'sh !" several tiIBDS.

.Then bo clambered to tho top of tho gate and kicked against it with hi* feet as he scrambled tip and made such a racket that every dog on South-hill woks and began calling all tha other doga Mines, while Mr. Bosby■chell, balancing himself on the top of the gate, rattled it bo furiously in his unsteady violence, tho dogs could scarcely hear each other, and Mri B. repeatedly put one hai,d to his mouth and said, "sh !".in the same warning tonos, and winked in a very laborious and uncertain mauner in the several aud general directions of the noisy aud invisible dogs, to indicate that he wa3 doing something powerful sly, aud wanted to keep most awtul shady about it. Thou he began to climb over and let himself down on the inside of the gate.

Now, tho gate was not fastened, and when Mr. Bosbyschell transf-rred his weight to the inside it "flew wide open, banged itself up against the fence, and Mr. B .-by.ohell, as ho let himself down 0:1 the ' sidew dk on the outside of the fence, di-tortod his face into such au expression of malignant aud fisndish cunning as would have silenced every dog on the hill, could they have seen it. Then with stealthy steps he tiptoed across the street in a zigzag rnanuer, holding a finger on his lips to impress the sleeping world aud the voiceless night around him with silence, while he pursued his cautious way, as he supposed, to Us own front door.

His amazement, when ho found another row of shade trees, another fence, aud another closed gate confronting him, wa3 simply colossal. He, stared until his eyes ached, then, declaring that it was " pef'ly increpehomsivol," he retraced his steps, and, after staring very hard at his open gate, plung d through it, bulged up the front steps, fell against the door, and, while he struggled to regain an erect posture, said " eh " at warning intervals. Some one—a figure arrayed in white, with frills arouud its head, and blood in its eyelet him in, and he lunged with easy grace into the first chair that went past him, after he had made several vain attempts to seat himself on the piauo. Tho reproachful figure of Mrs. Bosbyschell regarded him with calm severity, and her icy silence mads him feel uncomfortable. " Moggareck," he said thickly, but with grave earnestness, "Moggareck" (Sirs. Bosbyschell's front name is Margaret), '|l've—hie—l've gotta—gotta quickened coshielsce." "A what?" asked Mrs. Bosbyschell in calm di'dain.

" A qnicked coshience," repeated Mr. Bosbyschell. " A quicked coshience. A—hie—l've got something ommy min', Mogart. I've gotta hie —coffoiiiol—codfession —gotacofession t'make." " Yoa can make it in the morning," she said imperiously. " I'm going to bed. You mly sleep where you please, or rather where you can."

"Naw," protested Mr. Bosbyschell with much, vehemence, "can't—can'twait; hie—can'tgot'sleep 'th th'sload ommy—ommy mind. Got enffession t'mike, an' mus—inns' make it. Dme suthin', Moggart—hie—been bean a— beena load ommy mind long time. Been—hie—carry in' guilty secret round 'ith me ton long. Quicked coshience gon' gimme —won' gimme nope—hie—no peace. Mus' tell you Bumpin", Mogert, sumpin' 'll s'prise yon. I've—" " Mercy on me, man !" exclaimed Mrs. Bosbyschell, startled from her composure, " what have you been doing ? Tell me quick; tell me, for h aven's sake 1" " Moggart," Baid Mr. Bosbyschell, " it's snmthin' ye nev—hie —never- suspect—suspected. It'll mos'kill ye. Hie! S'pec ir/Ii nigh drive crazy. 'Sawful to think 'about it. Y'—y'wouldn' believe it of me, Marg.trt, y'-~ ye wonldn'. I've been—" " Speak !' shrieked the . almost frantic woman, "I am wild with suspense. Speak ! Toll me all quick ! Oh, I could tear her eyes out! ■ ell me, you brute ; what is her name ? Who is she ?

"Wh—wh—hie ! Who'sh who?" demanded Mr. Bosbyschell, in blank amazement. "The woman, you wretch !" ecreamed.hi3 wife. " Who is tho woman ?"

" Ob, Bhaw, Moirgnrt." ejaculated Mr, Bosbyschell, "tain til—bio—that. Wuss-n that. 'Smoe dreadful. Hie. 'Smore crushin'. You —hie—y'won't hardly b'lieve it—hie—w'en tell ye Moggart—

"Speak!" wailed the anxious woman, wtiiging her hinds, "speak ; let me know the •worst. What have yo i h-en doing ?" " Margaret." said Mr. Bosbyschell solemnly, aud with the air of a man upon_ whom a quickened conscience had wrought its perfect work, "Margaret," he sdd, nerving himself for the shock of confession, " Margaret, I've —hie—l've been drinking 1" There was a dull, heavy sound, as the ottoman caromed on Mr. Bnsbyschell'a head, aud ho looked nut from his recumbent posture under the piano just in time to see a form robed in snowy'white speed swiftly np the hall stairs with an expression of disgust on its marble features. And out in the azure skies the eternal Btars looked down at the swinging gat», and peeped in at the sleeping figure under the piauo, and winked at the drowsy ball lamp that had smelled so much whisky that it had burned itself out ia a whisky fit, and the sad voiceless spirit of the night sat on the front fence and brooded with a tender mystery over the devious ways of wayward, fallen man.