His face
always wore a sad look, and he lived the life of a recluse, but he never
attempted suicide again--he had had enough of that.
"It always makes me shudder to look at that place," said a lady, as we
passed an elegant cottage on the western side of Russian Hill, San
Francisco.
"Why so? The place to me looks specially cheerful and attractive, with
its graceful slope, its shrubbery, flowers, and thick greensward."
"Yes, it is a lovely place, but it has a history that it shocks me to
think of. Do you see that tall pumping-apparatus, with water-tank on
top, in the rear of the house?"
"Yes; what of it?"
"A woman hanged herself there a year ago. The family consisted of the
husband and wife, and two bright, beautiful children. He was thrifty and
prosperous, she was an excellent housekeeper, and the children were
healthy and well-behaved. In appearance a happier family could not be
found on the hill. One day Mr. P--came home at the usual hour, and,
missing the wife's customary greeting, he asked the children where she
was. The children had not seen their mother for two or three hours, and
looked startled when they found she was missing. Messengers were sent to
the nearest neighbors to make inquiries, but no one had seen her.
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