Rensselaer Republican, Volume 22, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 April 1890 — Page 3

IHE FIRST NECROPOLIS.

Sartor Thoughts By Sot. T. DaWitt Xjtlmags. •- TBcrfjrr Hachpolah, The Last Besting Place of Abraham, Isaac, Bebekah, Jacob and - Leah.—A Hallowed Field of Arborescent Beauty— Eolations of Besnrrection Day to the Tomb. ______ Last Sunday morning Dr. Talmage at {be Brooklyn Academy of Mosio delivered i timely sermon on “Easter Thoughts,” taking his text from Gen. 23: 17—18—“ And the field of Ephron, which was in Machpelah, which was before Mamre, the field ind the cave which was therein, and all the trees that were in the field, that were in all the borders round about, were made sure Into Abraham.” Here is the first cemetery over laid out Machpelah was its name. It was an arborescent beauty, where the wound of ieath was bandaged with foliage. Abraham, a rich man, not being able to bribe the King of Terrors, proposes here, as far is possible, to cover up his ravages. He had no doubt previously noticed this region, ind now that Sarah his wife had died—that remarkable person who at ninety years or age had born to her the son Isaac, ind who now, after she had reached ono

hundred and twenty-seven years, had expired—Abraham is negotiating for a family plot for her last slumber. Ephron owned this real estate, and after,* in mock lympathy for Abraham, refusing to take anything for it, now sticks jn a big price—four hundred shekels of silver. This cemetery lot is paid for, and the transfer made, in the presence of witnesses in a public place, for there were - ho deeds and no halts of record in those larly times. Then in a cavern of limestone rock Abraham put Sarah, and, a few years after, himself followed, and then Isaac and Rebekah, and then Jacob and Leah. Embowered, picturesque, 1 and memorable M»chpel..hl That “God’s-acre” dedicated by Abraham has been the mother of innumerable mortuary observances. The necropolis of every civilized land has vied With its metropolis; The most beautiful dills of Europn outside the great cities are covered witn obelisk and funeral vase and arched gateways and columns and parterres in honor of the inhumated. The Appian Way of Rome was bordered by sepulchral commemorations. For this purpose Pisa has its arcades -ofmarble, sculptured into exquisite bas-reliefs and the features of dear faces that have vanisned. Genoa has it 3 terraces cut into tombs; and Constantinople covers with cypress thj silent habitations; and Paris has its Pere-la-Chaise, on whose heights rest Balzac and David and Marshal Ney and Cuvi.'r and La Place and Moliere, and a mighty group of warriors and poets and painters and musicians, la all foreign nations utmost genius on ail sides is expend' 1 in the work of interment, mummification ar.d incineration. Gurown country consents<to be second to mono in respect to the lifeless body. Every city and town and neighborhood of any intelligence or virtue has, not many miles away, its sacred enclosure, where affection has engaged sculptor’s chisel and fiorist’b spade and artificer in metals. Our own city has shown its religion as well as its art, in the manner in which it bolds the memory of those who have passed forever away, by its Cypress Hills and its Evergreens and its Calvary and its Holy Cross and Friends’ cemeteries. All the world knows of our Greenwood, with now about two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants sleeping among hills that overlook the sea, and by lakes embosomed in an Eden of flowers, our American Y\ estminster Abbey, ad Acropolis of mortuary architecture, a Pantheon of mighty ones asoendeelegies instons, Iliads in marble, whole generation- in peace waiting for othar generations to join them. No domitory of breathless sleepers in all the would has so many mighty dead. Among proacuers of the gospel, Hetbune and Thomas Da Wi'and Bishop .lanes and Tyng, and Abael the missionary, and Beecher and Buddington and McCiintock ar.d Ins.tip and Bangs and Chapin and Noah Schneck and Samuel Hanson Cox. Among musicians, the renowned GaitsChalk, and the holy Thomas Hastings. Among philanthropists, Peter Cooper and Isaac T. Hopper and Lucretia Most [and Isabella Graham, and Henry Bergh, the apostle of mercy to the brute creation. Among the literati, the Careys, Alice and Phcebe, James K. Paulding, and John G. S::xe. Among journalists, Bennett aad Raymond and Greeley. Among scientists, Ormsby Mitchell, warrior as well as astronomer, and lovingly called by his soldiers “Old Stars;” the Drapers, splendid men, as I well know/ one of them my teacher, the other my classmate. Among inventors, Elias Howe, who, through tho sewing machine, did more to alleviate the toils of womanhood than any man that ever lived, and Professor Morse, who gave us magnetic telegraphy; the former doing his work with the needle the latter with the thunderbolt. Among physicians and surgeons, Joseph C. Hutchinson, and Marion Sims, and Dr. Valentine Mott, with the following epitaph which he ordered cut in honor of the Christian religion: “My implicit faith and hope is in a merciful Redeemer, who is the resurrection and the life. Amen and Amen.” This is our American Macbpelah, as sacred to us as tho Machpelah in Canaan, of which Jacob ottered that pastoral poem in one verse: “There they buried Abraham, and Sarah his wife; there they buried Isaac, and liebekah his wife; and there 1 buried Leah.” At this Easter service I ask and answer What may seem a novel question, but it will he found, before I get through, a practical iend useful and tremenduous questiou: What will Resurrection Day do for the cemeteries? Firsts I remark,it will be their supernal beautification. At certain seasons it is custom try in all lands to strew ffowors ‘over the mounds of the departed. It may have been suggested by the fuot tbat [Christ's tomb wts in a garden. And when |I say a garden, 1 do not mean a garden of these latitudes. The late frosts of spring, [snd the early frosts of autumn are so near to each other that there ore only a few months of flowers in the Held. All the 'flowers wo see to-day had to be petted and co-zed, ad put under shelter or they would not have bloomed at all. They are : the children of the conservatories. But mt tala wsmdd, md through the most ol the 'year, the Holy Land is ail ablush with Aural opulence. You find all the royal family of floweirs there, some that you supposed indigenous to the far North, and others indigenous to the far South—the daisy and hyacinth, crocus and anemone, i tulip and water-lily, geranium and randscuius, mignonette and sweet marjoram. 'ln the college a* bey rout you may see Dr. 'Posts collection of about eighteen hundred kLids of Hoiv Lund flowers; while among trees an, the oak of frozen dimes, and hbe tamaris.c of the Sroutcs, wn'nut aad willow, IVy and hawthorn, ash and elder, jpine and sycamore. If such floral and botanical bsanties are the wild growths of the fields, think of what a garden must be in Palestine 1 An<* in such a garden Jesus Christ slept after, on the soldier’s sjear. His last drop of blood had eoaguUtfd. And then

see how appro—tato that all our cemeteries should be floralixed and tree-shaded. In June, Greenwood Is Brooklyn’s garden. “Well, then,” you say, “bow oan you make out that the Resurrection Day Will beautify the cemeteries? Win it not leave them a ploughed-up ground! On that day there will be an earthquake, snd will not this split the polished Aberdeen granite, as well as the plain slab that can afford bat the two words, *Our Mary,’ or *Our Charley*!” Well, I will tell you How Resurrection Day will beautify all tho cemeteriesIt will be by bringing up the faces that were to us once, and in our memories are to us now, more beautiful than any calla lily, and the forms that are to ns more graceful than any willow by the waters. Can you think of anything more beautiful than the reappearance of those from whom wo have been parted. I do not care which way the tree falls in the blast of the Judgment hurricane, or if the ploughshare that day shall turn under the last rose- leaf and the last chiua-aster, if out of the broken sod shall come the bodies of our loved ones not damaged, but irradiated. The idea of the resurrection gets easier to understand as I bear the phonograph unroll some voice that talked into it or sung into it a year ago, just before our friend’s decease. You turn the wire, and then come forth the very tones, the very accentutation, the very cough, the very song, of the person that breathed into it once, but is now departed. If a man can do that, cannot Almighty God, without half trying, return the voice of your departed? Ani if He can return the voice, why not the lips and the tongue and the throat that fashioned the voice? And if the lips and the tongue and the throat, why not then the brain that suggested the words? And if the brain, why not the nerves, of which the brain is the headquarters? And if He can return the nerves, why not the muscles, which are

les3 ingenious? And if the muscles, why not the bones, that, are less wonderful? And if the voice and the brain and the muscles and the bones, why not the entire body! If man can do the phonograph, God car .do the resurrection. WiU it be the same body that in the last day shall be reanimated? Yes, but infinitely improved. Our bodies change.every seven years, and yet, in one sense, it is the same body. On my wrist and the second finger of my right hand there is a scar. I made that at twelve years of age, when, disgusted at the presence of two warts, 1 took a red-hot iron and burned them off, and burned them out Since then my body has changed at least a half-dozen times, tout those scars prove it is the same body. And we never lose our Identity. If God can aad does sometimes rebuild a man five, six, ten times, in this world, is it mysterious that He can rebuild him once more, and that in the resurrection? If He can do it ten times, I think He can do it eleven times. Then look at the seventeen-year locusts. For sventeen years gone, at the end or seventeen years they appear, and by rubbing the hind leg against the wing make that rattle at which all the husbandmen and vine dressers tremble as the insec tile host tages up the march of devastation. Resurrection every seventeen years I

Another consideration makes the idea of resurrection easier. God made Adam. He was not fashioned after any model. There had never been a human organism, and so there was nothin? to copy. At the first attempt God made a perfect man. He made him out of the dust of th 3 earth. If out of ordinary dust of the earth and without a model God could make a perfect man, surely out of tha extraordinary dust of the mortal body, and with millions of models, God can make each one of us a perfect being in the Resurrection. Surely the last undertaking would not be greater than the firat. Seethe gospel algebra: ordinary dust minus a model equals a perfect man; extraordinary dust and plus a model equals a resurrection body. Myuteries about it? Oh yes; that is one reason why I believe it. It would not be much of a God who could do things only as far as I can understand. Mysteries? Oh, yes; but no more ;<bout tho resurrection of your body than about its present existence. 1 will explain to you the la3t mystery of the resurrection, and make it a 3 plain to yon as that two and two make four, if you will tell me how your mind, which is entirely independent of your body, can act upon your body so that at your will your eyes open, or your foot walks, or your hand is extended. So I find nothing in the Bible statement concerning the resurrection that staggers me for a moment. All doubts clear from my mind, I say that the cemeteries, however beautiful now, will be more bcuutif ul_ vehen_ltha. hnd ies of our loved ones come up.

They will come in improved condition. They wilt come up rested. The most of them lay down at the last very tired. Ho w often you have heard them say: “X am so tired!” The factis, it is a tireJ World. It I should go through this audience, and go around the wofld, I could not fi.id a person in any style of life ignorant of the sensation of fatigue. Ido not believe there are tflfty persons in this audience who are not tired. Your head is tired, or your back is ired, or your foot is tirs l or yoar brain is tired, or your nerves are tired. Long journeying, or business application, or bereavement, or sickness have put on you heayy weights. So the vast majority of those who went out of this world went out fatigued. About the poorest place to rest in is this world Its atmosphere, its surroundings, and even its hilarities are exhausting. So God stops our earthly life, and mercifully closes ths eyes, and quiets the feet, and folds the hands, und more especially rives quiescence to the lung and ha Art, that hava not had ten minutes’ rest from the first resp.rationand the first b sat. If a drummer-boy were compelled in the army to b jet his drum for twenty four hours without stopping his officer would be court-m irtialled for cruelty. If the drummer-boy should be commanded to beat bis drum for a week without ceasing, day and night, he would die in attempting it. But under your vestment is a poor heart that began its drum-beat for the march of life thirty or forty or sixty or eighty years ago, and it has had no furlough by day or night; and, whether in conscious or com itose state, it went right on, for if it had stopped seven seconds your life would have closed. And your heart will heap going until some time after your spirit has flown, for the auscultator says that after the last expiration of lune and the last throb of pulse, and alter the spirit Is released; tiia heart keeps on beating for a time. Wbat a mercy, then, it is that the grave is tbe place where tb.it wondrous machinery of ventricle and artery can halt I Under the healthful chemistry of the soil all the wear and tear of nerve wad muscle and bono will be subtracted and that bath of good, fresh, clean soil will wash off the last ache, and then some of the same style of dust out of which tho body of Adam was constructed may be infused into tbe resurrection body. How can the bodies of the human race, which had no Tapianisbment from the dust since toe time of Adam in Paradise, get any recuperation from the storehouse from yrbich he was constructed without our going back into the dust! That original, life - giving material bavins been added to the body aa it once was. and alt the defects left behind, what n body will be the

resurrection body? And will not femJmh of thousands of such appearing above the Gowanus Heights make Greenwood more beautiful than any June morning after a shower? The dust of the earth being the original materini for the fashioning of the first human being, we have to go hack to the samo plate to get a perfect body. Factories are apt to be rough places, and those who toil In them have their garments grimy and their hands smutched. But who cares for that, when they turn out for us beautiful musical Instruments or exquisite upholstery! What though the grave is a rough place, If is a resurrection-body manufactory, and from it shall come the radiant ana resplendent forms of OHr friends on the brightest morning the world ever saw. You put into a factory cotton, and it comes out apparel. You put into a factory lumber and lead, and it comes out piano 3 aad organs. And so into the factory of the grave you put in pneumonias and consumptions, and they come out health. You put in groans, and they come out hallellujahs. For us, on the final day, the most attractive places will not be the parks or the gardens or the palaces, but the cemeteries. We are not told in what season that day will come. If it should be winter, those who come up will be more lustrous than the snow that covered them. If in the autumn, those who come up will be more gorgeous than the woods alter tbe frosts have pencilled them. If in the spring, Ihe bloom on which they tread will be dull compered with the rubicund of their cheeks. Ob the perfect resurrection body! Almost every one has some.-defective spot in bis physical constitution: a dull ear, or a dim eye, or a rheumatic foot, or a neuralgic brow, or a twisted muscle, or a weak side, or au inflamed tonsil, or some point at which the east wind or a season of overwork assau.ts him. But the resurrection body shall be without oue weak spot, and all that the doctors and nurses and apothe caries of earth will thereafter have to do will be to re3t without interruption after the broken nights of their earthly existence. Not only will that day be the beautification of well kept cemeteries, but some of the graveyards that have been neglected, and been the pasture ground for -cattle and rooting-places for swine, will for the first time have attr > ctiveness given them. It was a shame that in that place ungrateful generations planted no trees and twisted no garlands, and sculptured no marble for their Christian ancestry; but on the day of which I speak the resurrection shall make the place of their feet glorious. From under tbe shadow of- the church, where they slumbered among nettles and mullein stalks and thistles, and slabs aslant, they shall rise with a glory that shall flash the windows of the village church, and by the bell-tower that used to Call them to worship, and above the old spire beside which their prayers formerly ascended. What triumphal procession never did for a street, what an oratorio never did for an academy, what an orator never did for a brilliant auditory, what obelisk never did for a king. Resurrection morn will do for all the cemeteries. This Easter tells us that in Christ’s resurrection, our resurrection if we are His, and the resurrection of all the pious dead, is assured, for He * was “the first fruits of them that slept” Renan says He did not rise, but five hundred aad eighty witnesses, sixty of them Christ’s enemies, say He did rise, for they saw Him after he had risen. If He did not rise how did sixty armed soldiers let him get away! Surely sixty living soldiers ought to be able to keep one head man! Blessed be God! He did get away. After His resurrection Mary Magdalene saw Him. Cleopas saw Him. Ten diosiples in an upper room at Jerusalem saw Him. On a mountain the eleven saw Him. Five hundred at once saw Him. Professor Ernest Renan, who did not see Him, will excuse us for taking the testi mony of the five hundred and eighty who did see Him. Yes, yes; he got away. „And that makes me sure that our departed loved ones and we ourselves shall get away. Freed Himself from the shackles of clod. He is not going to leave us and ours in the lurch. There will be no door-knob on the inside of the fairly sepulchre;*for we can not come out, of ‘Ourselves; but, there is a door-knob on the outside, and that Jesus shall lay hold or, und opening, will say: “Uood morning 1 You have slept long enough I Arise! Arise 1” - And then what flutter of wings, and what flashing of rekindled oyes, and what gladsome rushing across the family lot, with cries of “Father, is that you?” “Mother, is that youi” My darling, is that you?” “dow you all have changed!” The cough gone, the croup gone, the consumption gone, ihe paralysis gone, the weariness gone. Come, let us uscend together! The older ones first, the younger ones nextl Quick now, get into linal The sky ward procession lias already started! Steer now by that embankment of cloud for the nearest gate 1” And os we ascend, on one side the earth gets smaller until it is no larger than a mountain, and smaller until it Is no larger than a palace, and smaller until it is no larger than a ship, and smaller until it is ho larger than a wheel, ana smaller until it is no larger thao a speck. Farewell, dis solving earth! But on the other side, as we rise, heaven at first appears no larger than your hand. And nearer it looks like a chariot, and nearer it looks like a throne, and nearerlooks like a star, and nearer it looks like a sun, and nearer it looks like a universe. Hail, sceptres that shall always wave! Hall, anthems that shall always roil! Hail, companiou ships never again to be broken, and friend ships never again to part! Tbat is what Resurrection Day will do for all the cemete ries and graveyards from the Machpelah that was opened by Father Abraham in Hebron to the a.acbpelah yesterday consecrated. And that mages I .ady Huntington’s immortal rhythm most apposite: When Thou, my ri hteous Judge, shalt come To take Thy ransomed people home. Shall I among them standi Shall such a worthless worm as I, , • Who sometimes am afraid to die. Be found at Thy right hand! Among Thy saints let me be found, Whene erth’ archangel’s trump shall sound. To see Thy smiling face; Then loudest of the throng I’ll sing; While heaven’s resounding arches ring V\ ith shouts of sovereign grace;

[??]

A Portland boy committed some misdemeanor lor which he was about ti receive punishment at tbe hands o bis mother. The bo; begged to be ai low to go to his room. Permission was granted and the child went upstairs to bis own room and closed tbe door behind him. The mother followed and listened outside, after tell tne him be must burry and come dowi again and receive his punishment The boy wept to the side of the be' knelt down, and this was bis prayer “Dear Lord, if you love little bov aud want to help me out, now is th time.” ■ The prayer was answeratL— Lewi* ton Journal.

HOW LITTLE KIT DIED.

STORY OF AN INCIDENT IN A TOWN OF FAR-OFF IDAHO. Small and Trembling Hands That Held a Hark for a Shooter—Tragic Kasait of a Kaaaken Han’s Boast.

glow. The village was quiet as it always was at this time of dny. It wasn’t much of a village—a house here and a store there, and all blackened by storms aud age. People were scarce, too. Those who were on the one broad street were the kind that grow among sage brush and grease wood —tall, heavily jawed men, with an awkward swing to their gait and their faded clothing and highheeled boots bespattered with mud. A. lean, skulking dog prowled along tbe road, and three heartily saddied and branded ponies were tethered near the Ark saloon. There were 250 people in tho village but every body who lived there knew the population exceeded 500.

On this cold afternoon five of the in- j habitants sat in front of the Ark saloon. Four of them were men who wore soft j hats and collarless shirts. Their coarse hands and rugged faces showed that j they toiled out of doors —herding cattle I on the plains no doubt. The fifth person j was a little girl with hair as black as the 1 lava blocks aud eyes so big and so round that they looked like wells of ink. Bhe wasn’t even seasonably dressed, for whenever the wind brushed her she shivered, hardy as she was. A coral necklace clung so tightly to her neck that it looked like a scar. Her thin blue dress, clumsily cut from a large garment, hung in scandalous proportions about her well-rounded body. The men had beea driuking heavily. The little girl had come to lead her father away. But the big, rough man was angry. A man from tbe Snake River country had questioned his ability as a marksman with a six-shooter. The dispute had been going on for an hour or more, with delirious tales of gua feats aud terrific expressions of profanity,when the mite of a child stole timidly up to the big man. For a moment the child was not noticed. The wind picked up the ragged hem of her dress and whipped it about her legs, and the big sun, glowing with tbe richness of a solferino disk, made the tears in the cbiid's great eyes shine as one hits seen rippling water glitter in a stream of sunshine. The glass in the shop windows was red, too, aud the snow on the three mountain peaks in the distance looked like a carpet of crimson geraniums stretched over cathedral spires. “Hese’s Kit. boys,” the father finally exclaimed, as he looked admiringly at tbe tot who had in some way managed to neßtle beside bis leg. ’Til leave it to Kit, fellows,’as to who is the handiest man with the gun. Who's the best man as what you ever seen. Kit?” “Ma wants you to come home and eat supper.’’ enme the stammering, almost pla in t iye re ply. - “So she sloes, Kit; bnt who’s tbe best shooter ns you know of?” VPap." “Who shoots hens right and left and never spiles the meat?” “Pap:” ■ — ‘"Whose Kit beyouf” * “Pap’s; but mam wants you home for ■upper.” The four rough men looked at the child with a stupid gaze. “Why, I'll tell you, fellers, an speaking about shooting, me and Kit will show you something, won’t we Kit?" and tbe big man drew two enormous revolvers from his bolsters and placed them upon a box. The child shrank instinctively at the sight of the weapons. “Won’t we. Kit?” repeated the big mnn, noticing that tbe child was silent. Tbe black head nodded a reluctant affirmative. “Course we will. Kit knows pap, and seeing as somebody does not know us we will make us known.” Then tbe man drew a leathern bag from his pocket and took from it two five-dollar gold pieces. ’"Now, Kit,” he said, with as much pride as liis thick voice could portray, “you take these shiners and walk out into the wagon track and bald ’em up stiddy like, and then we’ll ’em how pap kills hens." The child faltered, bnt parental dis- ■ ciplino had been stern in her home, and < with nervous fingers she seized tbe coins and walked bare-headed out into the • street. The father seized his heavy guns and staggered prondly to the roadway. “Stand straight like Kit,” commanded the father.

The little girl’s tattered shoes came together and her white face was turned directly toward the father. “Hoist up the shiners, little un’; this way—see?” and the man, placing his pistols upon tbs ground, held up his ■ thumbs aad index fingers so that those •f each band came together, _ .. .

t was a told autumn evening, but (be red sun going down behind the spectral mountains on the desert of Idaho seemed to brighten up everything, just as A blazing log paints the white ceiling of the sitting-room and colors the faces of those who watch the incandescent embers

The little coins flashed above the tangled mass of hair. J “Be you ready. Kitf* There was not a tremar jm the little body. The drunken man. proud of his marksmanship, leveled the muzzles of his weapons at the child. Tne eyes of the shooter closed and opened in maudlin fashion. Oa a sudden two streams of fire, poured from the black barrels of the pfstols. The smoke from the weapons turned crimson as it rose in the. red light; The child lay upon the ground with her legs stiffening in the lava dust. A white hand crtffefred one of the gold coins. Tito metal once clasped by the other hand had been blown down street by a bullet. Oae bullet had toru its way somewhere beneath that crown of tangled hair. “Guess you hurt the child, Ike,” out of the drunken men exclaimed, aa he gave his trousers a hitch and reeled out to the Bpot where the ettild lay. The father’s heavy revolvers fell upon the ground. His ashy face moved toward the head of his child. As he grasped the rigid shoulders a tiuy stream of blood trickled over his gnarled fingers. Then he rose. Men and women with terror-stricken faces were clustered about him and dogs skulked around the crowd. The sun waa now so low that the peaks of the distant mountains glowed with a delicate pink and tbe sky, beginning with a deep maroon at tbe i horizon, ran in beautiful shadings to a soft, rich purple at the zenith. For a moment the father was silent. He seemed to be looking for a familiar face in the crowd. He was sober now. His face was almost hideous iu its determination. “That’s the worst Bhot what was ever made,” he finally stammered as he wiped the sweat off his face. “Boys, I can keat that. Hands off, till I show you.” And before one of the villagers could reach him the frantic man picked up one of his weapons and, turning it full upon himself, fired. They didn’t take the bodies home that j night. They were placed side by side ' in n feed store and guarded by three hardy villagers. There are two graves in the sage brush near Soda Springs. The boasting marksman and his guns ! rest in one. The yellow grass or the other grave covers little Kit, who was j buried in her tattered dress and worni out shoes. The mother married tbe mnn front the Snake River country.— - Chicago Herald. —

BROOCH ON HER FOREHEAD.

How a Kabyle Woman Wears Her Curious Looking Jewelry. The principal jewels of a Kabyle woman are double shoulder pins joined together by a chain—sometimes with an amulet in the middle, used for fastening the dress on the shoulders. Her dress owes very little to the art of the dressmaker. Tbe bodice is formed anew each morning by being secured on ths shoulders of these pins, which are generally alike.

A KABYLE WOMAN.

Brooches are of many different forms »nd sizes. The large, round brooch with hanging chains and ball pefldaiits is only worn after a woman has borne a child, and even then with a difference. Thus the mother of a daughler wears hers in a bodice, but the proud mother of a son sets hers iu the middle of her forehead, with the ball failing over hei eyebrows. From this honored position it is sometime lorn atjdjtiijng in rage and defiance at the feet of the huslihndwhen some doni'stic difference of opinion has Induced him unduly to riiastise the Wearer, says the Jewellers’ Weekly. Earrings are made of different patterns. Some are small, to bang from the lobe of the ear; some are very large, to hook Over the ear and are sunporled by strings tied at the top of tbe head beneath the headdress. The long, dangling chains which always baDg from these large earrings nre decorated at in tervais with Jots of rough coral aud with colored glass heads. The diadems worn, as may be seen by our picture of a Kabyle beauty, are very handsome and original. They are usually made of three plaques of metal joined together by hemispheres of bright metal, which have a very striking effect. The plaques are always enameled and enriched with round pieces of coral set in rows, such as are seen in a Jewish high priest’s breastplate. The diadem is placed around the turban-shaped headdress and is supported in its place by means of small hooks, which fasten on the top of the turbuD. A row of varied pendanta dangle over the eyebrows.

The Enfant Terrible.

This really occurred three days ago in this city, says the Pittsburg Dispatch. A lady from Chicago was visiting the family, and it so happened, owing to a chapter of accidents, that the lady oi tbe house met her guest for tbe first time at tbe dinner table. The hostess is partial to powder, and in the evening increases her natural pallor with its assistance. After tbe conventional embrace tbe lady from Chtargw vaiii; “You must have bad a very tiring day, Mrs. Blank.” * “Yes, indeed. I have, dear, ad I feel very fatigued.” “Yes —I never saw you look so pale before.” “Oh. that’s powder.” broke In the fl year-old enfant terrible, Miss Nellie, whe bad not been n spectator in her mother'* boudoir tor nothing. Gunpowder could not have exploded with greater force. Mine. Castanet, a lion-tamer, entered the cage at Brussels recently to separatt a lion and a hyena who were fighting, and although the lieu had formerly been much attached to Iter, lie then threw himself upon her and mangled her terribly and probably fatally before the attendants could rescue nos;

BLUEBEARD’S CANTLE.

It Is StOl to Be Seen, and Use HeuM Actually Existed. On a bright morning in May, 1887, I left Angiers for Nantes, the metropolis of Brittany, writes Louis Frechettfe in the Arena. As I was about to take tbe train, a friend, who bad come to see me off, said with a parting handshake. “By-tbe-by, before you get to Ancenis there is a station called Champtoce. As the cars pull up look to the right and you will see the rains of an Did chateau. Take them in well— -they are the remains of Bluebeard’s castle.” “Bluebeard’s castle? What Bluebeard do you mean?” “Surely there is only one—Petreanlta Bluebeard, Offenbach’s Bluebeard.” “Did he ever live?” “Certainly, in flesh ancl bone, as von and I. with this difference —that he was a hard case to begin with, and a marshal of France into the bargain.” ! ‘"Really what was his name?” “Gilles de Retz, a descendant of one of the oldest families in Europe. HU career was most extraordinary.” ,

The name was not unknown to me. [ had read of it in the chronicles in which is handed down to us the marvelous story of the maid of Orleans. Bnt what could be the connection between it and the bloodthirsty hero of Per.reault’s celebrated tale? This question suggested itself to my mind as the train bore me at fuR speed over the waving bills that border the Loire, and from one thought to another Hound myself unconsciously rehearsing the different scenes, phases and catastrophes of the childish drama Which grandmothers take snch delight in presenting to their little gaping and shuddering audiences. I could see the youthful bride, led on by curiosity, creep tremblingly, clutching the little, gold key, to the fatal .door, open it noiselessly, utter a cry of horror, and drop fainting at the sight Df the bodies hung in a row. Then the sudden return of the angry . husband to his castle, his fury on seeing the little gold key soiled with blood, his brandishing of the deadly sword, with the infuriated cries of “Prepare to die, madam f” I could hear the pitiful tones of the poor victim, during the short respite granted her, as she called to her sister perched up on the tower: “Ann, sister Ann, seest thou no one come?” And the lamentable reply; “No, I see nothing but the shining sun on the dusty road!” And at last came the sigh of relief of yore, as I fancied I could hear from afar off the sounding approach of the galloping rescuers. The vision haunted me till we reached Chammptoce, where, sure enough. I saw on tbe right, as my friend directed, about a quarter of a mile off, the jagged form of a lofty mediaeval tower which rose about a neap of ruins and ». clump of stunted oaks, casting against the heavens its vast and somber outline. This was Gilles de Retz’s castle, BlueBeard’s home. Or rather it was one of his castles, for he had many, the whole surrounding country which bears his name (Pays de Retz) having once been his.

Beginning to Enjoy Life.

Americans are just beginning to enjoy life. We are not quite the sober and sad-checked race that we once were. The struggle for existence finds the people better off than they were one and two hundred years ago. There is more abundance and comfort, less cold, hunger and exposure, better food, shelter and clothing. Things can be enjoyed now which could not even exist here previously, for both the comforts and luxuries themselves on one hand and the margin for expenditure on the other have increased and come into being. These have given color and interest to life. The religious belief, too, is more cheerfuL The awful deity of Puritanism has been supplanted by a loving one. Religion now busies itself more with good deeds and human sympathies and less with gloomy introspection. It has fathered a larger faith in the absolute enevolence as well as justice of God, and of the substantial victory of good over evil which this implies. Contact with Germans and Jews, who have migrated to this country and become a part of our environment, is having ns influence. Go to Saratoga and who among the visitors are having the most enjoyment? The Hebrews. Among the work people who are out for a holiday in the park, or the country, or on the water, the Germans show the most hearty devotion to the occasion; and neither are the Irish and other Europeans wanting in this respect. All these influences of better feeding, more leisure, a better religion, a growing aestheticism, larger incomes and possibilities of better living generally, to say nothing of the contagious example of the Germans, the Hebrews and other peoples who know how to enjoy living, are bringing the people of this country into a better enjoyment o 4 life. —Good Housekeeping.

Don’t Rub The Eye.

When yon get a cinder or speck of dust or other offensive particle in your eye, don’t rub it Don’t touch it. tfon’t pull down tbe UsJ.‘ Don’t put your hand near it. Let it alone. This is very hard advice to follow.and in nine cases out of ten you will find yonrself rubbing your eye before you'know it,. But if you can refrain from touching jonr eye at all the action of that organ will itself cast out the offeuding mote in much quicker time, and with far lew irritation, while your efforts would only hinder it and perhaps fasteo the Intruder so that it will stay a long time. Of course if it is a particle of metal you will consult a surgeon or oculist at once; bat ordinary substanees are best treated aa above indicated. Some people say. “rub the other eye.” but this is of no use.—Good & vusekeepmg. The Cape of Good Hope can now be reached by telegraph via the west coast of Africa, as well as via the Red Sea and Zanzibar. So the dark continent Is bound around fay the electric win that is constantly making the world •mailer. .... , /