The Two Brothers (The Kingdom of Sorrowan (Book 2))

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Lucy Core, Delta, Colo. Mary Snelling, Iberia, Mo. Former Hutchinson Girl Dead Miss Maggie Lynam, who for a number of years was an employee of the dress goods department of the Rorabaugh-Wiley store, died at a Wichita hospital after an illness of three months. The funeral was held today at her old home at Cunningham. Miss Stella Deardorff attended the funeral representing the Rorabaugh-Wiley employees. Death of Fletcher Majors Fletcher Majors passed away at his home here shortly after 12 o'clock last Thursday.

He had been in failing health for some time and the end was regarded only as a matter of endurance. He was born in Knox county, Ohio December 23, At the age of 16 he enlisted in the regiment of Ohio volunteer infantry. Later he was transferred to the Ohio and served until the close of the war. He was with Gen.

Sherman on the march to the sea; the campaign through the Carolinas and marched in the grand review up Pennsylvania Avenue in He was discharged from the army in Washington. In August he was married to Nancy C. There children were born of this union: Majors of Sterling, J. Majors of Inman, and Mrs. Lulu Welch of Sterling. In he moved from Ohio to Keokuk county Iowa; where the family lived for 7 years. He came to Kansas in settling in a timber claim in the east part of Rice county where he lived until the death of his wife in After this he lived at Clinton, Oklahoma for a few years when he returned to Kansas.

In he was united in marriage to Mrs. In he moved to Nickerson which has since been his home. Funeral services were held from the Methodist Church here Saturday afternoon at 2: Burial was made in the Eastside cemetery there. Dominick Marko, a member of the mob was shot and killed and three others shot and seriously wounded. The riot was the result of a strike at Raven run colliery where a large body of men quit work without reason. When they returned to work Wednesday they were refused employment.

She came to Hutchinson in from Missouri. Robert McNeil, East 13th; Mrs. Jack Warford, Burbank, Calif. Trent, Grandview; sister, Mrs. Thursday, Elliott Chapel; Rev. His wife, survives him. The funeral services were held this afternoon at 2"30 at their home. McCue, 89, pioneer rancher and businessman of Finney county died in St.

Catherine's hospital after an illness of a year. He was born March 15, at Afton, Va. And had lived in this area since About 40 years ago Mr. After the railroad venture he returned to ranching, also founded the Garden City Land and Immigration Co. Survivors include two daughters, Mrs. Eva Stephens, Garden City, and Mrs. Leeta Orr, Okmulgee, Okla. Most of this obituary is taken directly form notes which the deceased himself had prepared.

There he was baptized in his infancy in the name of the Triune God. He was confirmed in the early spring of , and soon after left for this country. For about a year he lived in the State of New York, and from there he moved to Minnesota. His next move was to Cheney, Kansas. Here at the age of 21 he became a voting member of St. Soon after he moved to Haven and his church membership was transferred to the Haven Lutheran church. He was married to Marie Doris Harms on October 13 and "lived a very happy life at their home southeast of Haven.

Dick Meyer has always been a faithful member of St. For some years he served on the church's board of elders. Even after he became a shut-in he still showed a lively interest in his congregation. Back in the first decade of this century he was a member of the board of control of St. John's College in Winfield. When automobiles first came into general use several trips were made to Winfield to attend board meetings, which was quite an undertaking at that time.

For a while Mr. Meyer was a director of the Farmers Grain Co. During the past years Dick Meyer left home only occasionally due to the fact that his hearing and sight were very poor. But despite these distressing conditions he was always quite cheerful. His beloved spouse, with whom he had lived happily for almost 55 years, died on August 16, , his daughter Minnie Stecher in June, , and his son-in-law, Fred Oldenettel in May Others who preceded him in death were two brothers and one sister.

Survivors are one daughter, Mrs. Ella Oldenettel, Haven, one son, Alvin Meyer of Buffalo, New York, seven grandchildren, five great grandchildren, other more distant relatives and many neighbors and friends.

Dick Meyer died Monday morning at Funeral services were held Wednesday with the Cantwells in charge, and with his pastor, the Rev. Karstensen officiating and with burial in the Lutheran cemetery. Eugene Popp was at the organ and a number of young ladies sang several hymn selections. The text which Pastor Karstensen selected for Dick Meyer's funeral sermon was: Her parents were John and Maria Harms, who are numbered among the pioneer members of St. In her infancy she was baptized in the name of the Triune God. As a small girl she came to Kansas with her parents and lived near the present town-site of Haven.

She was instructed and confirmed by Pastor August Luebkemann. Her confirmation day was when she vowed faithfulness to her God and Savior was April 18, On October 13, she was married to Dietrich Meyer who had been living at Cheney, Kansas for a few years. At the time of their marriage they moved to a farm two miles southeast of Haven, where they lived throughout their married life. Three children were born to this union, Minnie, Ella and Alvin. Almost five years ago she and her husband were enabled to celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary. Up until about a year ago Mother Meyer faithfully attended the services of St.

She has been a member of the Ladies Aid almost since its organization in During these past years she has been listed as an honorary member. Throughout her life she enjoyed comparatively good health. A heart condition caused her to become somewhat nervous during these bygone months. She gradually grew weaker until she passed away last Saturday afternoon, August On the day of her death, her age was 76 years, six months and 28 days.

The Fall of the House of Usher

She leaves to mourn her beloved husband, Dick Meyer, three children, Mrs. Fred Oldenettel, and Alvin Meyer of Buffalo, New York, seven grandchildren and one great grandchild, her one and only brother, Henry Harms, other relatives and many, many friends. Funeral services for Mother Meyer were held Tuesday morning.

At 10 the main service was held in the Lutheran church. Karstensen used the words of 2. A group of ladies sang several selections, one of these being the hymn, "My Spirit on Thy Care" which was also used at the occasion of the Golden Wedding in October Following this service, the earthly remains were laid to rest in St. Many memorial wreaths were also thoughtfully dedicated in loving memory of Marie Doris Meyer. Man's reason cannot fathom the truth of God profound; Who trusts her subtle wisdom relies on shifting ground.

God's Word is all-sufficient. It makes divinely sure, And trusting in its wisdom, my faith shall rest secure. Albert Moore, 58, died in his home, East Ninth, last night following a heart attack. He was born in Farina, Illinois and had lived in Hutchinson 30 years. He was a barber by trade. Moore is survived by his widow, Mrs. Olive Moore, a daughter, Mrs. Moore, East Campbell, and I. Moore, Urban drive; and a sister, Mrs. Don Cline of California. Moore will be tomorrow afternoon at 5 o'clock in Elliott-Guard chapel with Rev.

Olson of the Seventh Day Adventist church in charge. Burial will be in Eastside cemetery. He was born March 15, , at Hutchinson, the son of Isaac A. A lifetime resident of Hutchinson.

He belonged to and was past president of the Hutchinson Saddle Club. On April 18, he married Roberta L. Richards at Miami, Okla. She died May 27, He was preceded in death by two brothers; and three sisters. Funeral service will be at 10 a. Burial will be in Fairlawn Burial Park, Hutchinson. The ship had made ten trips to Guadalcanal. On Friday night, Aug. Suddenly six enemy planes, torpedo-bombers, swept over the bay. All were shot down, but one of them scored a direct hit on the John Penn, with a torpedo. In the explosion of the men aboard, were killed.

The ship sank within 17 minutes. Moore, at his station in the fire room was hurled into the bay. He said he could almost feel the fire at his back as the faming oil spread over the water, but he swam 2, yards and reached a supply boat. Returned to the U. Previously in the Atlantic theater, participating in the invasion of North Africa Oct.

To the Pacific theater Dec. Moore, Urban Drive. Moore, 63, West 3rd, died Tuesday at his home, following a short illness. He was a retired brick contractor and lived here most of his life. He was a member of Westside Baptist Church. Lois Ann Long, East 21st; Mrs. Ruth Copeland, Slidell, La. Cheryl Faye Zedler, Sulthur, La. Ben Smith, Homony, Okla. Donna Goodson, Wichita; Mrs. Grace Mikula, both of Denver, Colo. Margie Palmer, Las Vegas, Nev. Barbara Swartz, Omaha, Neb. Funeral will be 1 p. Friday at Elliott Chapel; the Rev. Friends may call 10 a. Wednesday and Thursday at the chapel.

Moore, 78, West 2nd, died Tuesday morning at his home after an illness of two years. He was born Nov. He was a retired building contractor and was a member of the Methodist Church. I know not how it was --but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible.

I looked upon the scene before me --upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain --upon the bleak walls --upon the vacant eye-like windows --upon a few rank sedges --and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees --with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveller upon opium --the bitter lapse into everyday life-the hideous dropping off of the reveller upon opium --the bitter lapse into everyday life --the hideous dropping off of the veil.

There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart --an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it --I paused to think --what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion, that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth.

It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in unruffled lustre by the dwelling, and gazed down --but with a shudder even more thrilling than before --upon the remodelled and inverted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree-stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows.

Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to myself a sojourn of some weeks. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher, had been one of my boon companions in boyhood; but many years had elapsed since our last meeting. A letter, however, had lately reached me in a distant part of the country --a letter from him --which, in its wildly importunate nature, had admitted of no other than a personal reply.

The writer spoke of acute bodily illness --of a mental disorder which oppressed him --and of an earnest desire to see me, as his best, and indeed his only personal friend, with a view of attempting, by the cheerfulness of my society, some alleviation of his malady. It was the manner in which all this, and much more, was said --it the apparent heart that went with his request --which allowed me no room for hesitation; and I accordingly obeyed forthwith what I still considered a very singular summons.

Although, as boys, we had been even intimate associates, yet really knew little of my friend. His reserve had been always excessive and habitual. I was aware, however, that his very ancient family had been noted, time out of mind, for a peculiar sensibility of temperament, displaying itself, through long ages, in many works of exalted art, and manifested, of late, in repeated deeds of munificent yet unobtrusive charity, as well as in a passionate devotion to the intricacies, perhaps even more than to the orthodox and easily recognisable beauties, of musical science.

I had learned, too, the very remarkable fact, that the stem of the Usher race, all time-honoured as it was, had put forth, at no period, any enduring branch; in other words, that the entire family lay in the direct line of descent, and had always, with very trifling and very temporary variation, so lain. It was this deficiency, I considered, while running over in thought the perfect keeping of the character of the premises with the accredited character of the people, and while speculating upon the possible influence which the one, in the long lapse of centuries, might have exercised upon the other --it was this deficiency, perhaps, of collateral issue, and the consequent undeviating transmission, from sire to son, of the patrimony with the name, which had, at length, so identified the two as to merge the original title of the estate in the quaint and equivocal appellation of the "House of Usher" --an appellation which seemed to include, in the minds of the peasantry who used it, both the family and the family mansion.

I have said that the sole effect of my somewhat childish experiment --that of looking down within the tarn --had been to deepen the first singular impression. There can be no doubt that the consciousness of the rapid increase of my superstition --for why should I not so term it? Such, I have long known, is the paradoxical law of all sentiments having terror as a basis. And it might have been for this reason only, that, when I again uplifted my eyes to the house itself, from its image in the pool, there grew in my mind a strange fancy --a fancy so ridiculous, indeed, that I but mention it to show the vivid force of the sensations which oppressed me.

I had so worked upon my imagination as really to believe that about the whole mansion and domain there hung an atmosphere peculiar to themselves and their immediate vicinity-an atmosphere which had no affinity with the air of heaven, but which had reeked up from the decayed trees, and the gray wall, and the silent tarn --a pestilent and mystic vapour, dull, sluggish, faintly discernible, and leaden-hued.

Shaking off from my spirit what must have been a dream, I scanned more narrowly the real aspect of the building. Its principal feature seemed to be that of an excessive antiquity. The discoloration of ages had been great. Minute fungi overspread the whole exterior, hanging in a fine tangled web-work from the eaves.

Yet all this was apart from any extraordinary dilapidation. No portion of the masonry had fallen; and there appeared to be a wild inconsistency between its still perfect adaptation of parts, and the crumbling condition of the individual stones. In this there was much that reminded me of the specious totality of old wood-work which has rotted for long years in some neglected vault, with no disturbance from the breath of the external air.

Beyond this indication of extensive decay, however, the fabric gave little token of instability. Perhaps the eye of a scrutinising observer might have discovered a barely perceptible fissure, which, extending from the roof of the building in front, made its way down the wall in a zigzag direction, until it became lost in the sullen waters of the tarn. Noticing these things, I rode over a short causeway to the house.

A servant in waiting took my horse, and I entered the Gothic archway of the hall. A valet, of stealthy step, thence conducted me, in silence, through many dark and intricate passages in my progress to the studio of his master. Much that I encountered on the way contributed, I know not how, to heighten the vague sentiments of which I have already spoken.

While the objects around me --while the carvings of the ceilings, the sombre tapestries of the walls, the ebon blackness of the floors, and the phantasmagoric armorial trophies which rattled as I strode, were but matters to which, or to such as which, I had been accustomed from my infancy --while I hesitated not to acknowledge how familiar was all this --I still wondered to find how unfamiliar were the fancies which ordinary images were stirring up. On one of the staircases, I met the physician of the family.

His countenance, I thought, wore a mingled expression of low cunning and perplexity. He accosted me with trepidation and passed on. The valet now threw open a door and ushered me into the presence of his master.

The room in which I found myself was very large and lofty. The windows were long, narrow, and pointed, and at so vast a distance from the black oaken floor as to be altogether inaccessible from within. Feeble gleams of encrimsoned light made their way through the trellised panes, and served to render sufficiently distinct the more prominent objects around the eye, however, struggled in vain to reach the remoter angles of the chamber, or the recesses of the vaulted and fretted ceiling. Dark draperies hung upon the walls.

The general furniture was profuse, comfortless, antique, and tattered. Many books and musical instruments lay scattered about, but failed to give any vitality to the scene. I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. An air of stern, deep, and irredeemable gloom hung over and pervaded all. Upon my entrance, Usher arose from a sofa on which he had been lying at full length, and greeted me with a vivacious warmth which had much in it, I at first thought, of an overdone cordiality --of the constrained effort of the ennuye man of the world.

A glance, however, at his countenance, convinced me of his perfect sincerity. We sat down; and for some moments, while he spoke not, I gazed upon him with a feeling half of pity, half of awe. Surely, man had never before so terribly altered, in so brief a period, as had Roderick Usher! It was with difficulty that I could bring myself to admit the identity of the wan being before me with the companion of my early boyhood.

Yet the character of his face had been at all times remarkable. A cadaverousness of complexion; an eye large, liquid, and luminous beyond comparison; lips somewhat thin and very pallid, but of a surpassingly beautiful curve; a nose of a delicate Hebrew model, but with a breadth of nostril unusual in similar formations; a finely moulded chin, speaking, in its want of prominence, of a want of moral energy; hair of a more than web-like softness and tenuity; these features, with an inordinate expansion above the regions of the temple, made up altogether a countenance not easily to be forgotten.

And now in the mere exaggeration of the prevailing character of these features, and of the expression they were wont to convey, lay so much of change that I doubted to whom I spoke. The now ghastly pallor of the skin, and the now miraculous lustre of the eve, above all things startled and even awed me. The silken hair, too, had been suffered to grow all unheeded, and as, in its wild gossamer texture, it floated rather than fell about the face, I could not, even with effort, connect its Arabesque expression with any idea of simple humanity.

In the manner of my friend I was at once struck with an incoherence --an inconsistency; and I soon found this to arise from a series of feeble and futile struggles to overcome an habitual trepidancy --an excessive nervous agitation. For something of this nature I had indeed been prepared, no less by his letter, than by reminiscences of certain boyish traits, and by conclusions deduced from his peculiar physical conformation and temperament. His action was alternately vivacious and sullen. His voice varied rapidly from a tremulous indecision when the animal spirits seemed utterly in abeyance to that species of energetic concision --that abrupt, weighty, unhurried, and hollow-sounding enunciation --that leaden, self-balanced and perfectly modulated guttural utterance, which may be observed in the lost drunkard, or the irreclaimable eater of opium, during the periods of his most intense excitement.

It was thus that he spoke of the object of my visit, of his earnest desire to see me, and of the solace he expected me to afford him. He entered, at some length, into what he conceived to be the nature of his malady. It was, he said, a constitutional and a family evil, and one for which he despaired to find a remedy --a mere nervous affection, he immediately added, which would undoubtedly soon pass off.

It displayed itself in a host of unnatural sensations. Some of these, as he detailed them, interested and bewildered me; although, perhaps, the terms, and the general manner of the narration had their weight. He suffered much from a morbid acuteness of the senses; the most insipid food was alone endurable; he could wear only garments of certain texture; the odours of all flowers were oppressive; his eyes were tortured by even a faint light; and there were but peculiar sounds, and these from stringed instruments, which did not inspire him with horror.

To an anomalous species of terror I found him a bounden slave. Thus, thus, and not otherwise, shall I be lost. I dread the events of the future, not in themselves, but in their results. I shudder at the thought of any, even the most trivial, incident, which may operate upon this intolerable agitation of soul.

I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger, except in its absolute effect --in terror. In this unnerved-in this pitiable condition --I feel that the period will sooner or later arrive when I must abandon life and reason together, in some struggle with the grim phantasm, FEAR. I learned, moreover, at intervals, and through broken and equivocal hints, another singular feature of his mental condition. He was enchained by certain superstitious impressions in regard to the dwelling which he tenanted, and whence, for many years, he had never ventured forth --in regard to an influence whose supposititious force was conveyed in terms too shadowy here to be re-stated --an influence which some peculiarities in the mere form and substance of his family mansion, had, by dint of long sufferance, he said, obtained over his spirit-an effect which the physique of the gray walls and turrets, and of the dim tarn into which they all looked down, had, at length, brought about upon the morale of his existence.

He admitted, however, although with hesitation, that much of the peculiar gloom which thus afflicted him could be traced to a more natural and far more palpable origin --to the severe and long-continued illness --indeed to the evidently approaching dissolution-of a tenderly beloved sister --his sole companion for long years --his last and only relative on earth.

I regarded her with an utter astonishment not unmingled with dread --and yet I found it impossible to account for such feelings. A sensation of stupor oppressed me, as my eyes followed her retreating steps. When a door, at length, closed upon her, my glance sought instinctively and eagerly the countenance of the brother --but he had buried his face in his hands, and I could only perceive that a far more than ordinary wanness had overspread the emaciated fingers through which trickled many passionate tears. The disease of the lady Madeline had long baffled the skill of her physicians.

A settled apathy, a gradual wasting away of the person, and frequent although transient affections of a partially cataleptical character, were the unusual diagnosis. Hitherto she had steadily borne up against the pressure of her malady, and had not betaken herself finally to bed; but, on the closing in of the evening of my arrival at the house, she succumbed as her brother told me at night with inexpressible agitation to the prostrating power of the destroyer; and I learned that the glimpse I had obtained of her person would thus probably be the last I should obtain --that the lady, at least while living, would be seen by me no more.

For several days ensuing, her name was unmentioned by either Usher or myself: We painted and read together; or I listened, as if in a dream, to the wild improvisations of his speaking guitar.

And thus, as a closer and still intimacy admitted me more unreservedly into the recesses of his spirit, the more bitterly did I perceive the futility of all attempt at cheering a mind from which darkness, as if an inherent positive quality, poured forth upon all objects of the moral and physical universe, in one unceasing radiation of gloom. I shall ever bear about me a memory of the many solemn hours I thus spent alone with the master of the House of Usher. Yet I should fail in any attempt to convey an idea of the exact character of the studies, or of the occupations, in which he involved me, or led me the way.

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An excited and highly distempered ideality threw a sulphureous lustre over all. His long improvised dirges will ring forever in my cars. Among other things, I hold painfully in mind a certain singular perversion and amplification of the wild air of the last waltz of Von Weber. From the paintings over which his elaborate fancy brooded, and which grew, touch by touch, into vaguenesses at which I shuddered the more thrillingly, because I shuddered knowing not why; --from these paintings vivid as their images now are before me I would in vain endeavour to educe more than a small portion which should lie within the compass of merely written words.

By the utter simplicity, by the nakedness of his designs, he arrested and overawed attention. If ever mortal painted an idea, that mortal was Roderick Usher. For me at least --in the circumstances then surrounding me --there arose out of the pure abstractions which the hypochondriac contrived to throw upon his canvas, an intensity of intolerable awe, no shadow of which felt I ever yet in the contemplation of the certainly glowing yet too concrete reveries of Fuseli. One of the phantasmagoric conceptions of my friend, partaking not so rigidly of the spirit of abstraction, may be shadowed forth, although feebly, in words.

A small picture presented the interior of an immensely long and rectangular vault or tunnel, with low walls, smooth, white, and without interruption or device. Certain accessory points of the design served well to convey the idea that this excavation lay at an exceeding depth below the surface of the earth. No outlet was observed in any portion of its vast extent, and no torch, or other artificial source of light was discernible; yet a flood of intense rays rolled throughout, and bathed the whole in a ghastly and inappropriate splendour.

The Two Brothers Book Cover

I have just spoken of that morbid condition of the auditory nerve which rendered all music intolerable to the sufferer, with the exception of certain effects of stringed instruments. It was, perhaps, the narrow limits to which he thus confined himself upon the guitar, which gave birth, in great measure, to the fantastic character of his performances. But the fervid facility of his impromptus could not be so accounted for.

They must have been, and were, in the notes, as well as in the words of his wild fantasias for he not unfrequently accompanied himself with rhymed verbal improvisations , the result of that intense mental collectedness and concentration to which I have previously alluded as observable only in particular moments of the highest artificial excitement. The words of one of these rhapsodies I have easily remembered.

I was, perhaps, the more forcibly impressed with it, as he gave it, because, in the under or mystic current of its meaning, I fancied that I perceived, and for the first time, a full consciousness on the part of Usher, of the tottering of his lofty reason upon her throne. The verses, which were entitled "The Haunted Palace," ran very nearly, if not accurately, thus:. In the greenest of our valleys, By good angels tenanted, Once fair and stately palace -- Radiant palace --reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion -- It stood there!

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