Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1886-04-30

Iiicy LOOK Nlle Oh IubSe ucllHullNl ilbJ41
flacies, hired, including n coachman with Il
broad silver band round his hat, for sCma'
thing like sIponce the half hour One, al.
most tue only one, relic OF bygone clenr
living in Munich
They ms pected the colossal statue, but dit
not yield TO the temptation OF going up into
its head via the leg. They walked through
the Hall of Fame at the back OF the statue.
But sightseeing did them no more good than
Franks forced gnyety. They were both sad
at heart
"Where shall we go nowT' asked Frank
as they came back to the fiacre as there
ANYTHING else to see about heref' He couched
this question in curious German, and AL
dressed the driver The driver said the
great south cemetery was not far of.
~ don't ike cemeteries" said FRANK
doubtfully.
II do" said Beatrice 50 they drove &C
cording to her wish.
They passed under the great arched en-
trance to the place of tombs. Beatrice, who
was now deep in sad thoughts, looked
neither to the right nor left-Rnd Frank was
looking only at Beatrice. They walked
straight into tho great open space, and for
awhile with the bright May sun shining
down on them, wandered about the forest
of tombs, which, after the manner OF oil
continental memorial stones, looked untidy
from the withered or tawdry wreaths which
had been placed on them last All Souls Day,
and left to decay at ease Carruthers was
somewhat disappointed in the cemetery.
Although this was his first visit to Munich,
he fancied he had read or heard that this
cemetery was one OF the finest in Europe.
He told Beatrice he was disappointed.
Perhaps the finest monuments are under
the piazza she said.
They walked across to the broad piazza
which runs round the center space. As
Beatrice had suspected, the finest and most
costly and artistic monuments were against
the wall. Some of them were magnificent
works of art, but Carruthers paid them
scant attention. Whether it was the mel
ancholv surroundings or the strain which
at Beatricc's wish he had put upon himself
to keep their conversation away from the
subject ever uppermost in their hearts, he
could not tell, but it seemed TO him that at
this moment his sorrow was more unen-
durable, more abiding than ever
"This" he muttered. "To this it all
comes. The end of love. the end OF ambi-
tom Of wealth, of poverty, of pain, Of joy.
All come to it, and other men and women
walk over our graves and wonder who we
were. Beatrice, Beatrice" he cried, in a
voice of exquisite agony, I'VE can live but
once and cur life is wastedv
Bravely as he Lad borne himself, Carruth-
ers had at last broken down.
Beatrice started These words were the
first which had been wrung from him which
implied the slightest reproach 1t only
wanted this to complete her misery. She
bent her head and the tears ran from her
eyes. Then she looked at Frank with pitt
full, appealing gaze which went straight to
his heart
II was fool-a weak fool" he said.
Forgive me-"
mo, you are wise. Oh, why was ever
bornN
Let us CO. said Frank. ~ hate this
abode of dead mortality"
SO with heavy hearts they walked along
| the broad piazza toward the entrance to the
cemetery. Somehow their hands met, and
| they went hand in hand.
Neither spoke. Carruthers was telling
! himself that he was weaker than he thought,
that he could not bear the situation longer.
| He would see Beatrice safe in England. He
would SEE this man and insure her future
ueace. Then he would-he must leave her.
To see her, hear her voice, touch her hand
vet know she could not be his was more
| than he could ask himself t. bear.
| So as they walked down that piazza they
felt that they were bidding each other q
farewell which might we'll be eternal Nc
wonder their hands refused to part.
As they drew near to the entrance they
PISSED what was to al appearance a shoI
with plate glass front opening on the piaz
"a lii front of it were two or three mer
and women and several children; the last
named on tip-toe, and fiattening their fla
Teuoni noses against tho glass. Frank
also glanced that way and saw such a curious
sight that, in spite OF his preoccupation, he
stopped.
A little way inside the glass was arranged
on banks of evergreens and flowers wha
seemed to be dozen dolls Of various sizes
but all large for dolls. Each was dressed il
smart long robes with tinSel and other deco
rations, and each doll bore large number
A curious sight! Carruthers drew near anC
then the truth flashed upon him They wer
dead babies There, each in its little nest o
leaves and flowers, they lay awaiting TIN
day Of burial.
They are deadw said Frank, turning t.
Beatrice.
Yes ] remember hearing it was tn
custom here to let them wait like this; bu
l forgot all about it. A horrible custom, i
it notf'
Is it horrible customl If startling +
strangers is it more horrible than the Eng
liSh custom of letting the poor dead thin
lie for days in an upper chamber, lie Their
often until the last sight one carries ava
of the loved one is a sight to be forgotten
Who has not known those fearful day
which precede an English funerai Tn
fearful room with its boxed up odor c
death striving with those of sweet scente
flowers, eau de Cologne and carbolic acic
1t may seem harsh to bear away the poe
dead clay at once, but not so harsh as tn
. custom which jeopards health for the SAX
of sentiment
Is it a horrible custom to think of a love
one exposed to the eyes of the public! Ho
rible at first sight TO watch women brinl
ing children and lifting them up to see wha
lies behind the glass. But why should tt
dead fear to face their fellow creature
gaze more than the livngl Why should IL
living be taught that the sight of death i