The Weekly Kansas chief. [volume] (Troy, Kan.) 1872-1918, 1883-03-22
THE EASTER EGG.
Poetical Account Of Els Origin, and o Ha.
norous Explanation.

The church bells, with their vibrant lips and
brazen tongues, are sending forth their Easter
music. The notes roll jnyOusly upward to the
sun as he speeds along in his path of gold, and
as the glad story, This day Lord hath
risen" is Tins unsteady told. The merry
voices of my children mingle with the Changing
notes. Ny little boy Of five summers climbs to
INV knee, and asks me to tell him why the egg
which he holds in his hard has such beautiful
colors, and Shat kind of bird is it that makes
such beautiful eggs.n The sweet April skies
shine not more blue and tender than the laugh
ing, loving blue eyes of my darling as they now
look into mine. | can not refuse his sweet
pleading. ''tell me the story" so | cudgel my
brain aud tell him story of the Easter egg.
Ny darling. You have heard of our blessed
Savior, who WAS crowned with sharp thorns
and crucifed, and how Joseph cared for His
body, wrapped il in fine linen, and laid ii in his
own new tomb then closed il with heavy
stone. Now close by the tomb grew a beauti-
full tree, covered over with shining leaves and
lovely, tiny blue flowers, and in the heart of
the tree, sheltered by the leaves and flowers, a
beautiful little singing bird had built her nest.
II was bOrdrred with mOsses, and inside were
fonr tiny white eggs. upon which she sat. and
when she beheld her dear Lord. in His burial
dress, looked upon His pale face, and saw the
cTae nails that pierced His feet her little heart
was well-nigh broken, and out of the depths of
her great sorrow she sang.
All night long she sat and sang in her moss
wreathcd cup: 81 wild and 50 shrill was her
song of sorrow, fall Of tears. And the home
less wind, as it passed. took up the sad burden;
soon the grief of the whole world seemed turned
into snrrowful song. Then beautiful angel,
al clothed in spotless white, appeared and
stood al the door of the tomb, and suddenly he
rolled the stone away; the Lord of the heavens
and the earth, i'll living lustrt, anne forth from
the tomb.
In the heart Of the tree, the bird sat and
sang. At sight Of the celestial mystery, her
little heart was filed with a sweet despair, and
the throbbing air bore aloft the sad notes, notes
climbing notes GP higher, still higher, into
heaven.
When the white robbed angel heard the griev-
ing birds snrrbvinl song aud again the glad
anthem that hailed Christ risen from the dead"
he said: BE thoH fnrevermore best, sweet bird.
thyself. thy eggs and thy moss wreathed home
in the heart of the tree"
And. my boy ever since that night, when our
Savior araSc from death and came forth from
the tomb, AMI that sweet bird sang her SORROW
full song. her eggs, once white. have been red.
gold and blue. like the one which You have in
Your hand. explaining IN mankind in simple
words the hOly marvel of Easter Day"
AUNT DINAn's STORY.
"Hnmph." That very suggestive sound camc
from the corner, where sat Aunt Dinah, our
children's ebony nurse, holding fiaXen- haired
Lula, and vainly endeavoriag to keep one of the
boys quiet by constant ahmonition of, ''Dah,
Tom, can't you keep still fur a minute, hey!'
Aunt Dinah has been in our family for more
than thirty years-frst, as nurse; next. dur
ing and after the war. as friend, comfort and
support; and now, as manager and spoiler of
my young tribe: therefore, she is privileged
character.
..Iumphr' again calculated Aunt DiualI, as
she wiped her eyes with the corner of her SNOW
white apron. showing that she was decidedly
affected by the sentiment of my story, even if
there was something in il that deserved that
emphatic 'iIGmphi
well what is it, Dinah p | asked
Oats mighty putty story, mighty putty.
and fectin' too chllun; but skuse me, marster,
it faint true TO nater!n she answered. "What
reason have Won to doubt it!' | questioned
Case as how you said it was de nanny bird
dat sung. marster. Now, has lived in de Souf
all de days oh my life, an | nebber no nebber,
heaTn de little nanny bird sing dem tro-le Ia
songs: dey chirp, and twitter, and talk like
'm0ng themselves, Int its de poppy bird dat
makes lie mos beautiful mnsic. Now, marster,
rnur muddrr dat's dead an gone. desc chill
lern's grandmother, uSen to tell her little gals
story dat ! specs was de true orragin oh dem
Easter eggs, ease its true ter lie Bible, and true
to mater too"
'.Do tell us the story?" pleaded the children;
and when added my request, she commenced:
"Chillun an marSter, yoa all members dose
two Bible young sisters dat lubbed our Dressed
Hehbenly MarSter. Miss Mary an Miss Maria.
an how. while Miss Mary sot at de feet oh de
Lord, Miss Maria. hrin' de housekeeper, she was
a inin' goodies an cookin', an maxim de house
look clean an cheerful-like. Well, when de
dressed Lord was put in de tomb, poor Miss
Mary she wel-nigh crazy wifi sorrer an
Miss Maria she felt jes Is bad, bat she knew
dat chen sricvin' folks mus eat. an deere
much fusion 'uong de people dat it was hard
matter to git anything. Now, on yesterday
mnrnin'. Miss Maria she found de Dressed Lords
muddcr hat dead wifi cryin' an hunger.
She went out to find food. She looked in de
garden. an round lie stable yard: an all at
one" il seemed aS if sumtin called her Potrack,
potrack. putrack! an den gnbhle, gobble, Cob
BILE, an lie soft answer oh Il. turkey hen. an
she went ohcr de fence, an, 10 an behold, dare
was two nests full oh eggs such eggs she
had nehher seed before, ease eggs usen to be all
white, afnre dat Easter mornin' but dem eggs
i'll de turkeys ncs' was speckled, an de Guinea
fowls eggs was yaller rs gold, an dey hah
been dat way cher sense, ease dry was bread
an meat fur de dressed mudder, on dat day
when her son, orr Sailor. from de tomb an
'sceLded into hcbben. An dat is how lie Easter
eggs knows ahout come ter lie born on earf.'