St. Landry democrat., 1879-07-19
A BIT OF HISTORY.
Am Ancient STORY as Revised and Cor.
Iected by an American Student.


muse Calliope and the god Apollo. Cali
liope was no relative, we believe, to the
steam calliope that used to travel with q
circus, and made more noise than two
country bands at an agricultural fair.
Orpheus played the Tyre with such fas-
cinating power that the birds in the air,
the fish in the streams. wild beasts, and
even trees, rocks and hills gathered
round him to listen-truly, large,
varied and appreciative audience. The
applause was made by the foot OF the
hills; and the trees wouldn't leave as
long as Orpheus didn't strike up ."For
I'm Called Little Buttercup." A man
nowadays might play q Tyre until his
eyes bulged out, and not accumulate
such an audience as Orpheus fascinated
save the rocks, and these would con-
gregate about him in such a hurried and |
reckless manner that he would have to |
dodge and 60 away from there if he
valued his health. Orpheus' faverite
song was all about fair maiden named |
Eurydike whom he loved and lost. She
didn't run away and join Pinafo1e
troupe. Sne died from the bite of
snake that lurked in the grass over which
she had run to escape from another im-
petuous lover. This was before whisky
was discovered as remedy for snake
bites. TIE bibulous god Bacchus was
often bitten by a snake, but the wound
never proved fatal, He was always full
OF the remedy, Orpheus mourned for
Eurydike, and accompanied by her sister
nymphs, wandered over the hills and
valleys, filling the pure air with plaintiff
strains to call her back again-and caus'
ing the old grangers to unloosen their
cross dogs, and wonder why the fool
killer didn't come along that way. They
assured him thst if his girl was dead, it
was easier to get dozen new ones than
to call her back again. But Orpheus
still INDUCED in his little game of field
bawl. lie even prosecuted his search in
the remains of the lower world, the
sweetness of hIs music soothing the
savage breasts of the monsters and
wicked spirits dwelling there. Ee CON-
sidersbly augmented the weeping and
wailing existing in that subterranean
place. Even the heart of Persephone
and the mer2iless Erinys were sottened
by his passionate grief, and they finally
agreed that Miss Eurydike should be
permitted to return with her lover to
the upper world on condition that he
should not look upon her face on the
journey back. Orpht us gave his promise,
and, of course, broke it. He wasn't
proof against the temptation. He looked
back. Young man, you who think
all your future happiness and
heaven itself dwells in the face of
certain young person of the spring
bonnet gender, put yourself in his place,
and then censure him if you can. He
wanted to ascertain whether she wore
her hair crimped or banged. It is prob
able that if she had worn it q la idiot
fringe he would have "cut'' her then
and there. Eurydike was Obliged to
retrace her steps, and was lost to Orpheus
forever, He felt mighty bad about it,
and his appetite became prodigiously
out of repair. For several months he
sat in doleful mood by the banks of
river, under the open sky, refusing food
and drink. It was long fast, but he
was over 5000 in pocket by having no
board to pay. He was reduced to first
class living skeleton, but he refused
several tempting offers to travel with
show of ''living wonders" He evidently
thought a great deal of Burydike-
and unless he had an umbrella, his bat
and garments got several soakings, and
if he didn't get All awful cold in the
head it is miracle. At the expiration
of seven months he withdrew to the
elevated regions of the mountains and
resumed the weeping and wailing busi-
hess in a higher key. But it was an un-
healthy withdraw for him. He was dss
covered by a band of Texas roughs
called Menads, and torn by them limb
from limb. As strange as it may ap>
pear, this sort Of treatment proved fa>
tai, it killed him. He looked as if he
had been fooling with can of nitro
glycerine. His head and Tyre foated
down the Hebros and were carried to the
sea, the Tyre sounding sweet'y with the
swell and fall of the waves, to the island
of Lesbos. There the head was buried,
and nightingsles selected the spot to
sing their sweetest lays.
The story of Orpheus teaches that
truth is stranger than fiction much
stranger-and no one can read about his
musical instrument without exclaiming,
"Oh, what ly1e!"
Bro. Gardeners Lime-kiln Club.