i Her Easter Joy I 4 A Story by 4 i ESTHER JOYCE. f' J» -Copyright, 1907, by Mary McKeon. < ♦:K£ms><3 h MISS AMY CARTER leaued back In the dull shadows of the boarding house parlor and i watched the girl at the piano. The girl had a true but quite untrain ed voice, and she sang in commonplace, j soulless fashion the air of a four part j sacred song. * "Wasn't It shivery and grand where the bass took up tho tune?" The girl's hands came down nn the keys with a crash. She had not uuau. Ed that Miss Amy had come into the ! room. Most of the boarders did not J come downstairs until the tea bell had ! rung. Miss Amy was almost as star-1 tied as the girl. She had been in the j house five weeks and never exchanged i a word with any one save the laud- i lady. "Were you at St. Augustine's this aft- ' ernoonV" inquired the girl, swinging j around on the piano stool. "Oh, yes," replied Miss Amy simply, j "I've been there every Sunday since I | heard you sang „ ,j there in the ! > '/C cholr " . .• ;:W] "I'm sure it is V \ awfully kind of 'i, you to say so. I don't do much, you know, just VtJ® jJj (|M%j i one of the eho- if Vtwfi rus. but It's ,t per, and // I- |f V»: you meet real | "Ice people too. LJK 1 l * -. . I'd have joinedll l / UftfißWS the Musical R Hi league, too. only j I\ \ you ve got to !M | U )<-£&$»! report for every rehearsal or lose P / your tickets for the last con- 1 ■ J cert." MR. WESTON STUDIED Miss Amy sat HEU cuniot si.v. like oue entranced. Here was a girl who did not simply buy admission j tickets and listen to others. She was in IL all, in the world of music from which Miss Amy had always been ex eluded by the iron key, marked duty. "How—how do you manage to get j into a choir or a league or anything of that sort?" The girl felt flattered as she looked into Miss Amy's kindling face. "Oh, they're always looking for good sight readers with fresh, clear voices In the big choirs. Sometimes you get paid—sometimes you don't. 1 didn't get anything last year. I Jut the easiest way to get in is to take lessons from : the choirmaster—private lessons. Then Mr. Weston will put you in the choir to jolly you along, whether you can sing or not. You're new to New York, end you wouldn't believe the graft"— The obni.T of tln> sooner hell drowned tne latter part of the sentence, anil the girl rose abruptly. Miss Amy followed her down -to the dining room, but scarcely knew what was spread before them. What mattered food or drink or sordid landladies or gossiping board- j ers when she had found the key to her paradise at last? Perhaps it was graft —perhaps the girl spoke thoughtlessly. . The next morning very early Miss Amy went shopping. She told the mil liner she wanted a brown hat to match her suit. "No, not a toque like she had on; something younger," anil she de scribed quite accurately the hat which the girl had worn to church the after noon before. "I'll wear this," she said, "and you can send the old one home." Next she went to tlie nearest drug store and studied the directory. "Wes ton, Albert, singing toucher, -lUI West street." And as she loft the drug store she pie 1 a florist's window, and she stop >ed for a bouquet of violets. Then ag '.in she hesitated. The crisis of this her new life was at hand. She al lowed three cars to pass, and then, with firmly compressed lips, she sig aled for a hansom. At the boarding :otise every one said that in New York one must keep up appearances, i I'erhaps if he thought she could afford to ride in hansoms lie would overlook her vocal deficiencies. Albert Weston, worn by his strug gles with an indifferent pupil, was standing at the window of Ills studio when the hansom drew up before the « building and the brown, wrenlike fig ire stepped cautiously from the vehi cle anil shot a questioning glance up the brownstone front. "I'm glad I took the hansom," com- ] tiented Miss Amy us she mounted tho teps. This was life! An absurd thrill j wept over her and brought a delicate and most becoming blush to her face. Mr. Weston studied her curiously, hands deep in his pockets, when she nsked almost timidly the privilege of studying with him Prices, hours, ev erything seemed secondary to the fear that he might not accept her as a pupil, j He tried her voice, paced the room a few moments and then said gravely: "Yes, I will take you as a pupil, but I want to be quite frank with you. You will never be a great singer. You iave :. sweet, harmless, drawing room olce, but I don't want you togo Into 'he work with any ideo of being a Trand opera singer in time. You have j legun—too late for that." Again the delicate flush mounted to uer face. "I understand all that—lt Is just for my own pleasure. I—l could not study j sooner. It Is just for the joy of being ible to sing for myself " He stopped short in his nervous walk and looked at her. Such simplicity, tuch humility, such lack of ambition, almost staggered him. "Perhaps some time—when my voice s a little stronger—you might, that Is, 112 It would be qulto right, you might 'et me join your choir at St. Augus- j lne's?" "First vacancy there Is," he assented 'leartlly. "What our congregation likes s a number of sweet, correct voices. '*tr tho tims samp one cots tired of re "learsais or marries or moves away I'll iave your voice placed and be glad to \ ako you on." And so commenced the musical ca eer of Miss Amy Carter, aged thirty- j me, residence a second class boarding louse: occuDation SDendins the small | Life —An Easter 112 Poem ? By Rev. Dr. Edward Everett Hale, y THAT is what we try for, hope for and pray for— That we may think mo feel more, lovo more and be r .ore; That we may have life more abundant- The b r o ok ffift'ifs alive again, The saxifrage Kl>" ABD EVERETT which i S HALE. alive, The pussy willow, tho crocus, Tho snowdrop, the violet, The bluebird, tho butterfly. inneritatce wtiicn una couu 10 uei suddenly after a life of narrow drudg ery and unrelieved sacrifice. At first her lessons opened anil closed with al most monosyllabic conversation, but in time tho musician delved beneath tho surface and found the heart which foi years had almost starved for music. It had been born in her, she thought, but there had 'ecu work to do, so heavy that her 112 .m'/ had grown ton rough and still to play the old fash ioned organ. There were two invalids to nurse when the villago choir would have been glad of her services. And so she counted her love as dead and burled until tho Inheritance had come, "Well." she said, with a whimsical sr.iile, "1 thought I'd come to New York anil hear the best of music while the money lastc 1.1 would have a tasto of real life—what I have heard pei plo call the joy of living." Wo :< n smiled to himself. She call ed this seeing life! A •!. Indeed, t'iese days t-lie was quite in flutter of x cite ae it all the time. Weston hart tickets lie could not use for this con cert and that. Matinees came just when lie had pupils, and it was a shame to waste the tickets. ll<j was tremendously diverted by tills delicate, flower-ike woman, who felt that she was inil (ping in a mad orgy of music. He learned to look forward with keen interest to her comments on the con certs she attended. Self played so small a part in her enjoyment. It was always not how she felt, but how the music affected the audience, and gradu ally he discovered that she had a de cided gift of criticism which was de veloping under his guidance. Something he knew, too, that Vis pupil of thirty-one had not discovered. Under the magic of indulging the one great longing of her lifetime she was cheating old Father Time, tuning pages back and not forward. The faint color was always In her checks these days, and the voice, rising in her bird like throat, was fresh as a-girl's, lilt ing like a lark's in flowered meadows. And, watching her development, the tired man began to wonder what hau come over him. lie saw his work in a new light. The weight of drudgery slipped from his shoulders. The sense of wasted effort yielded to the infec tious happiness of his buoyant pupil. And so dawned Easter morning over St. Augustine's. Outside the doors tho mob of sightseers swayed while the regular parishioners claimed first right to pews. Then came the inrush of strangers; the organist took his place, Mr. Weston raised his hand, and the band of white robed men and women tiled into the choir loft. Out to the waiting multitude rolled the waves of perfectly balanced harmonies—a hun dred voices admirably selected, thought the congregation, and yet to the man who had trained them there came but a single voice. Iler face was uplifted, her eyes d ",vy and tender, as with tlutolike clearness the wonderful words reached lilin above the heads of the Other singers: "The strife is o'er, tho battle done; The victory of life Is won: The son.t of triumph has Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!" To the man it came not as a paean of triumph, but a message of peace, and she had shown him the way! lie wanted to tell her now—this min ute! The service stretched ahead 'yt"-■ »'"3 of him inter- (k minably. JliearaiP '([ "Alleluia, al» y iehiia!" , I Ills glance /T/Ss. caught and held t hers A startled itfy ' -1 \ expression flash ed over her face. L iifj r,, 'P ! Il l, , - .A. I ' rne flutellke [ v r>c>,-• f-y y / tones faltered *-*,/ // anil died away. I . . 112 pft The absorbed A'.".. O IkM singers on el- UW-C ..." l . >u , f>\ I her side <ll.l not V' ? note that her ■£. ' V •i 1 trembled, r^O* 1 ' * ' 1 her face, ■ ing, turned ~E,T VOICE FLOATED I the leader OLT TO ,UM i i.! banks of Eastei lilies Per 1..., It was their perfume something seemed to smother the sound In her throat. Then, as if fascinated, her glance traveled back to meet his, and the tender gravity In his face steadied her She raised her book, the color came hack into her face, and as her voice floated out to him In the final "Alleluia" he knew that his heart's message had reached her, and that was her answer. China's Easter Rabbit, One day, says a Chinese legend, the great god Buddha was very hungry. There were no restaurants In the neigh borhooil. A little rabbit perceived the god's plight and, hopping up to him. said: "Eat me, O Buddha!" Touched by such unselfish devotion, the god transported bunny to the moon, where he still sits In the top of a tree pounding In a mortar the herbs that go to make up the water of life. At the spring feast In China ever since that time people give each other moon shaped cakes stamped with the Image of a rabbit. | Pictures of f 1 The Christ I T ** cg» . . x l ¥ R' sons For Belief In Authenticity V of the Typical Portrait. A Easter day approaches Jesus, whose resurrection and ascen sion this day commemorates. Is drawn to our attention, and the question Is asked, "Did the Saviour leave his lifteness ou earth while among men?" Tills question Is best answered by re ferring to the remarkable consistency with which Christ lias been pictured all through the ages by the world's greatest painters. Many able and profound student" ,( Christian art have brought fo- aril positive arguments to show tt « this portraiture did exist in the early dec ades of the Christian era nt the time of Christ and that Its history and charac teristics fully supply the requisite ele ment of authenticity -. ' : v af [• I < !: ir A - POItTBAIT rliOM THE CATACOMBS. tOno of tlifc earliest pictures of the Sav iour.l Of the typical portraiture of Jesus, transmitted to us from an age in which the productions of pictorial art were either venal to inanity or utterly de based, It stands entirely by itself 112 purity, for power of conception at"', ,or a stylo of art not belonging and related to none other. Archaic in its grand simplicity, It is yet distinctly individual and portrait like Iti its type. Whether portrayed in humility, in suffering or in triumph, though sometimes severe and rugged. It is still always iliguilied and majes tic. It addresses itself by lt.i Infinite tenderness and at the same time by Its strength of character so directly to the higher sympathies and aspirations of our nature that it is accepted at once with undoubting, almost Instinctive, faith as the veritable counterpart of the divine original. Investigation as to the authenticity of the most valuable representations of Christ, because admittedly the oldest, has been beset with very great diffi culties. The Church of Rome, in whose possession most of them are, has gua ril ed them with extreme care, and, con sidering their sanctity, no one can won der at this or even complain of it. There is In the basilica of St. Peter's, at Koine, in the sacristy ov i the gi gantic statue of St. Veronica a picture accounted so holy and prieel ?s that no layman may ever behold it, id it is on the authority of Fathers ' . irucci and Tebay, who were famous asKoman anti quarians in the reign of I'ius IX., that even the s ,>reuie pontiff looked upon It only on.e a year, and then only after couini' .ilon. . It -orisists of a life size her.l of the Savior • represented sis lying in thesep ulcher. The ascertained history of the picture reaches to the second century. Second only to this work is the pic ture in the sacristy of the Church of St. Ilartolomeo, in Genoa. The hair Is wet anil matted: tears and the blood drops from the crown of thorns, so ex pressive of the stern real it; of death, mark the face, but the calm features and nearly closed eyes, the gently part ed lips, speak not of corruption, but of the spirit at that moment in paradise and of the shortly to be accomplished resurrection. This portrait is positive ly known to be 1,800 years old, and tradition says it was painted by St. Luke. A picture in the library of the Vat ican at Itome is of a date probably contemporary with the two just men tioned. Legend declares that this also was a production of St. Luke. It is executed In thick water color on a panel of Cyprus wood, now almost wholly decayed. Many of the portraits of Christ found In the catacombs afford sufficient evi dence that the familiar traits of the hair parted in the middle, flowing to tlie shoulders and beginning to curl or wave from the ears downward; the thin beard, the mustache and the oval face were recognized as the distinguishing characteristic and true likeness even at the early period. This type has been followed by all the great painters of Christendom down to the present day. It satisfied Michel angelo. In painting his last picture of Christ he followed the Veronica por trait line for line, as if he had traced It. This likeness of Christ Is universally recognized, so that now In every coun try where we see It painted It Is well known who It represents. New Or leans Times-Democrat. The Happy Bunday. The early Christians called Easter day Dominica Gaudil, the happy Sun flay. Family Life In France. Modern Trance is the stronghold of the family system. See a French fam ily at dinner In a restaurant or, for that matter, at home. You will never see a gayer, livelier function. There Is such a frank and unassumed sense of community about the whole thing. The boys adore their mother, the girls their father. The parents take a whole hearted delight in their children, and the children are so happy and re spectful. It Is a sight of which every Frenchman may be proud.—London Mall. A BItOWN BAND CLOSED OVER HEIt SLEN DER FINGERS. Cbloe Hnn's Gaster Ggg By FRANK H. SWEET. [Copyright. 190S, by Frank 11. Sweet.] —» —UNT DEU sat near the front fajl window of her little house j j|_ darning a great hole In the heel of Chloe Ann's stocking | and wondering "w'at fer dat chile so j late." "Par she come now!" she exclaimed, j glancing up the road. 'An' runnln' lii:e a wtl' tukkey!" A moment later the door flew open, and Chloe Ann rushed Into the room. "Aunt T)elt," she gasped, "dem gals up ter de schoolhouse" — "Look yer! 1 wants ter know w'at you mean bustln* inter do house dis j way. Youse lackin' in repose o' man ners, you is, Chloe Ann! Reckon I ] done hear old mis' tellin' Miss Hosa j dat a t'ousan' times, an' you'se des j like her. Shet dat door!" Chloe Ann, pulling like a small steam ! tug, rolled up her eyes despairingly and tumbled into a chair. "Co'se I'd oughter knowed you'd 'spise fer ter year 'bout dem Easter doin's," she said slyly. "W'at dey gwine ter do up dar?" in quired Aunt Deb eagerly. Chloe grinned. "Dem gals," she said, "dey gwine ter git up a show in de schoolhouse, an' dey gwine ter have aigs an* "Aigs!" exclaimed Aunt Deb. "Aigs," repeated Chloe Ann impress ively, "an', mo'n dat, dey ain't gwine ter have nothin' cop' aigs. Dey kin make 'em as small as sparrers' aigs or dey kin make 'em ties ns big as dey kin | tote. Dey kin stuff 'em or dey kin ! leave 'em holler, but ev'ry gal's 'blceged ter invent de alg by tier own alone self, j an' Mis' Dodd m sbe done tole j TT us dat de gal i J -£■ -"N ( w'at make de »-r.. ■* 1111 '1 initial alg slio* \ . V ter git a prize j " Here Chloe H //' \ \ T]| Ann paused an '\i \ \ V. " ,stnnl to «' ve \ /iz/M ft Aunt Deb time jl \f My to take in the i / ffla! full import of ' iHwh this announce- I uient; then she j '—%) H proceeded with V _M her tale. \ "Dat gal wid de long yaller ~"~y curls she says ter me, 'Nobody "R AIS T NEIIUEU LEF' A I II* t 'spectin' BEIUNE. ~, I you 11 ma ke nothin', Chloe Ann.' An' I say, 'Den I 'blceged ter 'sprise 'em.' Atter dat she axed me ef I reckon I kin make ! dat prize aig. An' I 'lowed I boun' ter ; try an' dat 1 ain't nebber lef' behinc! Den she laugh mighty scornful an' toss j up her head. 1 ain't say nothin' mo', ; but Ides star' roun' dem gals an' I watches out an' years der talk. I knows fer slio' now des how I gwine j t«r will.- " "Ain't I alters done tole de folks you was clar grit, honey?" cried Aunt Deb. j "But I dunno zackly w'at you mean j w'en you talk 'bout de 'riginal aig." "lio!" ejaculate' 1 c'liloe Ann. "'Rlg inal's de luos' ulfftintest from all de res', an' I'., boun' ter make dat aig. i I gwine make de blgges' aig in all ' creation!" "Chloe Ann!" shouted Aunt Deb, switching her niece sharply with the stocking she had just mended. "You oncompunctious chil'! Don' you lemme year no mo' dat kind o' talk! You gwine be took at your wud some day an' struck dead wid a clap o' t'under, like Anerias and S'fira was done struck w'en dey wasn't mindin' w'at dey say. (Jo 'long an' fetch in a armful o' light 'ood an' shet de chick'n house do' an' luok ter Ulack Jane. I done sot dat dnr hen dis mcrnin'. Att"r tea we'll set roun' de stove an' projee' 'bout dut 'riginal alg." It was after 10 o'clock when Aunt Deb and her niece rose from their seats before the fire. "An' atter all dls 'spectin' an' con- ' tend in'," said Aunt Deb despondently, j "we ain't make out ter kiver dat alg! I kin ax Miss Cole fer de ole boxes— you'll git yo' pas'boa'd outen dem :\n' like 'nongii she'll gimme de strong w'lte muslin. But 1 dunno w'at yo' gwine ter do for de outside." "Don' you be troubled in you' min' 'bout dat, Aunt Deb. Law, I's boun' ter fin' kiverin' fer dat alg. 'Tain't gwine out de world naked, cert'u sho'. I ain't nebber got lef behtne yit. Aunt Deb!" Aunt Deb spoke truly when she said that the girl was "clar grit." Until the last eighteen months of her life sho had always been ill fed and overwork ed. When she was eleven years old her sickly mother liecame a helpless invalid, and upon Chloe Ann were laid the burdens far too heavy for one so young. When the mother died two years later and the father declined to sup port her, Chloe Ann begged ar j work ed her way from Georgle a> a small town in Pennsylvania where Aunt Deb lived. The poor child could neither read nor write when sho entered the vil lage; but, being "clar grit," sho ignored the ridicule of the little children with whom sho was obliged to recite and worked with all her might to make up for lost time. Mrs. Dodd, a wealthy and benevolent woman, was at this time greatly inter ested in raising funds for the orphan asylum which she had been the means of starting In the village. She con ceived the idea of interesting the schoolgirls in the enterprise and pro posed that they should have an exhibi tion of Easter eggs of their own inven- She would give a prize of $lO for the most singular and unusual production. Ten cents ad "Cl mission fee YiV>\ should be asked r.liw*!. ll atthedoor. The v ladies should provide refresh er ments, and aft er the commit i tCC bn( * deci( * c<^ m original egg" there should be a grand sale of J the eggs for the j benefit of the BLACK JANE WAS No one was I DISCLOSED. more thorough- j ly excited than Chloe Ann. She talked about eggs; sho dreamed eggs. Her! hope and courage never failed, not 1 even when it lacked four days of the appointed time and her egg was still without an outside. "Law, Aunt Deb. ain't I brung up 'long o' triberlatloi s? Ain't I allers made out to fetch up at de head? I's j gwine out dis minute ter 'vestergate de store winders. Spec I'll skiver sump'n 'fo' I comes home." So saying, Chloe Ann put on her hat and shawl and started off, singing in a high key: "Hump yo'se'f ter do load an' fergit do distress An' dem w'at Stan's by ter scoff, Fer do harder do pullin' do longer de res, An' do bigger do feed in de trough." In less than half an lv ir sho was back again. There was i package in her arms and a look of s iemn joy on her face. "Corns in de udder root' ," she said in a hoarse whisper, and Aunt Deb went Into the other room without a moment's delay. When the two emerged from the lit tle bedroom they quivered with the aw fulness of the secret In their posses sion. The eventful day dawned at last, but it seemed to Chloe Ann the longest day of her life. Sho was dressed for the evening long before tho time, and ns soon as the clock struck 7 she ran I to the schoolhouse. When she opened the door she was dazzled with the sight. The boys had trimmed the large room most tasteful ly with evergreens and had arranged flags and other draperies with charm ing effect. The Easter eggs were displayed on tables near the wall. There were emer.vs almost "as small as sparrers' aigs," with a rosette and loop of very narrow ribbon at each end; eggs of dainty satin tilled with tempting can dies, eg::; covered with swansdown containing bottles of perfumery or waiting to receive a lady's jewel, and eggs resplendent in blue and red vel vet or plusn large enough to hold com fortably the large dolls that lay within. Chloe Ann smiled cheerfully upon the rival eggs and went her way, os tentatiously tossing over her shoulder the long scarlet ribbons that depended from a tight braid that stood out at right angles to her head and was ex aetlv three li«lu>s l«™<» An hour later she met Florence Evans, whom she had described as "dat gal wid de long* yaller curls." "Where's your egg?" inquired Flor ence. "Reckon It's at 'kome," was the cool response. "Heckon you're ashamed to show it," said the girl mockingly. "Like 'nough," replied Chloe Ann. with apparent indifference. "Why, Chloe Ann, Isn't your egg here yet?" exclaimed Mrs. Dodd. "All the eggs were to be here at 5 o'clock." "Dat's a fack," said Chloe Ann very gravely, "but Aunt Deb's mighty spe cial wid dat alg. She's gwine to fetch it herso'f." Just as the committee who were to award the p ir - were about to with draw for their conference Chloe Ann opened the outside door and thrust a very anxious face out into the dark ness. "Here 1 is!" panted Aunt Deb. "An' you kin praise yo' sta's dat I's come. I ain't nebber on'ertuk no sech skittish job as dis afo'. An' you ain't never year no sech racket as come film de Inside o* dish yer aig! I 'clar' ter good ness, 'twas wuss'n totin' a clock!" "Ilere, Judge Carlton," said Mrs. Dodd, taking the huge bundle from Aunt Deb's reluctant arms and giving '♦ *•> n gentleman standing near her. "It is so late that you will have to ex hibit this egg from the platform." Judge Carlton proceeded to the plat form, closely pursued by Aunt Deb. "Hello!" shouted a small boy. "A popcorn egg!" .V popcorn egg, sure enough, and shin ing and sparkling as If Jack Frost had breathed upon it! A murmur of sur prise and admiration ran through the room. Sirs. Dodd stepped upon the plat form and assisted Judge Carlton to raise the upper half of the great egg. When Rlack Jane, Aunt Deb's fa vorite hen, was disclosed sitting on a nest of white cotton batting everybody began to clap; then a dozen fluffy 111- ftle black heads thrust them - selves out from under the wings of the old hen, and the ap plause became /Os this all tho llt- QM' ) tie black heads disappeared, Jllljl V jgpT~~Y and everybody A 'ill 1 \jjtr j. A • laughed. if ft mil ! I V-\ ® f course / j V - uI/'L,! mij Chloe Ann's egg took the v || EJ prize. The com- ■ B nilftee were not absent from the X'i- room more than S* five minutes, "now DID vor THINK and as soon as or IT; ' the sale began Mrs. Dodd was sorely perplexed, for it seemed as if every one wanted to buy Chloe Ann's egg. What a jolly time they all had! How the people laughed and cheered when excited Individuals bid against themselves! At last "dat 'rigiual alg" was knock ed off at Sls to old Mr Planham who Had been very xuuen opposed to tne asylum. "Chloe Ann, how did you ever hap pen to think of putting that brood of chickens Into your egg?" Inquired one of the ladies. "Law!" said Chloe. "I allers 'bserved dat chlck'ns was a natehul t'tng ter be Inside o' aigs!" "Chloe Ann," said Aunt Deb as they were walking rapturously home in the moonlight, "youse de outdoln'est gal In dat dar schoolhouse! I's proud o' you, honey. I cert'nly Is." "Law!" exclaimed Chloe Ann, with a little tremble in her voice. "Ain't I done tol' you I's never lef behlne?" Fa ir Warning. Mistress—Jane. I saw the milkman wss you this morning. In the future I will take the milk In. Jane—Twouldn't be no use, mum. He promised never to kiss anybody but me.—lllustrated Bits. Sdbence €be6aster festivity ? "Oh, why, mamma, for Kasterttde Do people buy the candy rabbit?" "I do not know, my child," she sighed, i "Unless it be from force of habit." "Oh, whence, mamma, the painted egg We see in windows by the dozens?" "Ah. do not ask me, child, I beg. But go and ask your country cousins." "Oh, why, mamma, are hot cross buns So popular at Easter season?" "They may bo better than tho ones I bake—l reckon that's tho reason." "Oh, why, mamma"— But Bho forsook Her child and hied her to a college To read a cyclopedic book And freshen up on Easter knowledge. NY Is our Easter a time of I gifts and new raiment, and how and why is It associ ated with the egg and the rabbit? What has any of these things to do with a Christmas religious fes tival? Easter is not a Christian festival merely. It Is pagan as well. The early church in its wisdom saw more spiritual profit, a greater harvest of souls, in Christianizing as far as possi ble tho great national festivals of every people among whom it planted the IKWxM "^=====^ HAN FIIOM ONE SIDE OF THE STREET TO the otui:k. cross than in taking a hostile attitude toward them. Thus the Roman Satur nalia and the Druldic midwinter orgies and those iu honor of Thor were strip ped of their grossness and molded into our Christmas. And so it was with Easter. The missionaries who reached Ko:»!e from Judea to preach the new dis pensation fixed the time of tlie resur rection as being" on tho Sunday within tho w<H>k of th« Pnnaovpp •- gan on the fifteenth day of 'the first month of ti.o Jewish year. This was a season varying a little year by year, according to the Roman calendar, but always occurring about the end of March or early in April, when the south Italian country was decked with the flowers of spring in welcome to the coming guest, sweet summer. None of the great national festivals was held at that season, but when the new religion hail taken the evil out of the Saturnalia and even surpliced that feast in its own service it worked to continue two other great festivals of pagan Home and have them held on the date of Easter. These festivals were the Lupercalia, held on Feb. 10. and the Arval broth erhood, celebrated about the end of May. The Luperca ia was in honor of Lupereus, the god >f purification and fecundity. Goats i.nd dogs were sac rificed to him in his temple on the day set aside for his worship; in the blood of the sacrifice a sword was dipped by a priest, and with Its point the fore heads of the noble Roman youths were touched. Another priest washed away tho blood with milk. The youths, stimulated by great drafts of wine and clad only in the toru skin of a goat Just sacrificed and holding In their hands thongs of the same, followed by a great procession of the priesthood and crowds In holiday attire, ran from one side of the street to the other, striking with the goatskin whips at the women who presented themselves for the blows. .lie feast of the Arval brotherhood >-as celebrated in honor of the twelve foster brothers of Romulus, gods who continued the fertility of the fields, to which Lupercus gave the initiative. It was held In the grove of Dea Dla, about five miles from the city, and gave opportunity for annua! athletic games. There was an egg shaped track in the grove, and on this races were run, with eggs for prizes. Eggs were wagered, too, and In all there was such an abundance of eggs brought to the grove that more than likely the holiday merrymakers gorged them selves with them after the running and the wagering were done. I Whence the Romans got the idea of associating the egg with fertility is not certain. The Egyptians, however, had for centuries before regarded the egg as a symbol of the renovation of man after the deluge. Indeed, almost all peoples hafi religious ceremonies in which it figured as emblematic of re production. It was therefore especial ly fitting for the great festivals with which all the peoples welcomed spriug. Prom the Jewish missionaries to the Christians in Rome had been handed down the tradition that the Hebrew put an egg on the table at the Pass over to typify the departure from Egypt Perhaps this link between the Passover and the games in the grove of Pea Dla had to do with suggesting the merging of the Arval and Lupercal and holding both at the Easter time, a season midway between. However that be, the thing was done when the Christians became powerful enough to do It. Amonc the Germans, tho G«nl« nnrf tne people of the present British is lands the absorption of their ancient spring festivals by this new one of Easter was easy. It came to them from Rome with their new religion and chanced to be about the time they hald ♦boir own outran sDrlnji feasts Is Deaf Mute Sastcr Choir By JAMES A. EDGERTON. ICopyrlght, 190S, by James A. l£dge/-ton.l HN Easter service conducted in silence, choir and congrega tional singing without the making of a sound, an elo quent resurrection sermon preached without the speaking of a word—that is the unique accomplishment of a New York church. To an ordinary man or woman that sort of service would he puzzling and without mean ing, hut if such a oue should visit this particular church and should observe the rapt expressions on the faces of the congregation he might gain some inspiration from them, if not from the programme itself. The church in which this strange method of observing Easter is prac w 17 iM^WYr WEAK MUTE KASTER CHOIR. ticed is St. Ann's Church For Deaf Mutes, located on Washington heights. New York city. There is a trained choir of five yoyng ladies, who sing by spelling out the words of the hymn in concert, accompanying this operation by a rhythmical motion of the hands and arms, which seemingly has on the audience nil the soothing effects of "perfect music set to noble words." To behold the entire congregation keeping time with their hands and rapidly moving lingers when a hymn is given out for congregational singing has a weird but not an unplearant effect. This is the perfect devotion ol silence, music in the heart If not in the ears, harmony perfect in the luind and uumarred by any chance discord of sound. Just how the deaf muto can imagine music without ever having heard it is a problem for the psycholo gist. At any rate those in attendance at these services have a musical con cept of their own, as their very evi dent enjoyment of the sings testifies. The sermon is preached In the same way. Not a word is uttered, yet the nimble hands of the preacher are elo quent and convey an impression to at observer even If he does not know the sign language. As for the mutes them selves, they strain forward eagerly tc catch every sentence aud enjoy the flights of oratory evidently quite a? much as do thos; 1 who have ears tc near. The members of the congregation— they can scarcely l e called auditors come not only from the metropolis ami its environs, I it from cities even as faraway as li;-ItI:non» and Rochester. There are several hundreds of them gathered together each Easter to re new the acquaintances of school days and to enjoy the soul uplift of attend ing devotional services all their very own. A National Institution. fit was stated in tho house of ri-nr>-senta tives at. Washington tho other day that minco pie and Ico water are as bad as whisky and that the law might as well proceed against the one as tho other. J Law, man, spare that pie! Touch not a single crust! At lunch it fecdeth me; I'll stand by it or bust. What though dyspepsia hides Behind its contents mixed. The nation's hungry eye Upon it still Is fixed. What though most anything Can go In it disguised. Its weird, wild mystery Hut makes it so more prized. What though it swims in lakes Of water iced down poured! What though with horrid dreams Its pastry tough is stored! It Is the dish we love. Pear to tho nation's heart. Ah. what would hap should mine# Pie from our lunch depart? So. law. man, spare that pie! For laws arc vain, I vow! That pie I ate when young I'll keep on eating now. —Baltimore American. It will surprise many to learn that ear diseases were studied some 3,400 years ago. honor ol tlie goits tne.i iu be awakening nature. Among the Germans the hare as well as the egg had a part in the spring feasts as an emblem ot fecundity. So close was the association that even now the children there believe that the hare lays their Easter eggs, and as the rabbit is a cousin to the liare it is not strange that the children of English speaking people have the same curious belief about that frisky animal and hold it sacred to Easter. WALTON WILLIAMS. A Rollabl© TO SHOT Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne And Coneral Job Work. Stoves, Heaters, Ran«es, Furnaces, etc. PRICKS THE LOM GST! QUALITY TOE BEST! JOHN HIXSOJN HO. 11* £. FRONT ST.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers