The Brookhaven leader., 1890-11-20

thing they had themselves done, but as
a reparation for what their father and
grandfather, Saul had done. Burial
was denied these youths from May until
| November. Rizpah, the mother Of two
Of these dead boys, appoints herself as
sentinel TO guard the seven corpses
from beak Of raven, and tooth OF wolf
and paw Of lion. She pitched black
tent on the rock close by the gibbets
Rizpah, by day, sits on the ground in
front of her tent, and when a vulture be-
gins to lower out Of the MONDAY sky
seeking its prey among the gibbets,
Rizpah rises, her long hair flying in the
wind, and, swinging her arms wildly
about, shoos away the bird Of prey un-
til it retreats to its eyrie. At night she
rests under tho shadow of her tent, and
sometimes falls into drowsiness or half
sleep. But the stop of a jackal among
the dry leaves, or the painting of a
hyena, arouses her, and with the fury
of maniac she rushes out upon the
rock crying: away! Away" and then,
examining the gibbets to see that they
still keep their burden, returns again
to her tent till some swooping wing
from the midnight sky, or some growl-
ing monster on the rock again wakes
her.
A mother watch ing her dead children
through May, June, July, August, Sep
tember and October! What a vigil!
Painters have tried to put upon canvas
the scene and they succeeded in sketch
ing the hawks. in the sky and tho
| L.,
but they fail to give the wanness, the
earnestness, the supernatural courage,
the infinite self-sacrifice of Rizpah, the
mother. A mother in the quiet homo
watching by the casket of dead child
for one night exerts the artist to his
utmost but who is sufficient to put upon
canvas a mother for six months of mid
nights guarding her whole family, dead
and gibbeted upon the mountains? Go
home, Rizpah You must be awfully
tired. You are sacrificing your reason
and your life for those whom you can
never bring back again to your bosom
| AS ! say that, from the darkest midnight
OF the century, Rizpah turns upon me
and cries: "IIow dare you to tell me to
60 home? / am a mother. / am not
tired. You might as we'll expect God
TO get tired as for a mother to get tired.
| cared for those boys when they lay
upon my breast in infancy, and | will
not forsake them now that they are
dead. Interrupt me not There stoops
an eagle that l must drive back with
my agonized cry. There is panther l
must beat back with my club"
Do you know what that scene by our
| roadside in Palestine makes me think
| Of? 1t is no unusual scene. Right here
in these three cities by the American
sea coast there are a thousand cases at
this moment worse than that Mothers
watching boys that the rum saloons,
that annex of hell, has gibbeted in a
living death. Boys hung fin chains of
evil habit they can not break. The
father may go to sleep after waiting
until 12 o'clock at night for the ruined
boy to come home, and giving it up he
may say: Mother, come to bed; there's
no use setting up any longer" But
mother will not 60 to bed. 1t is
o'clock in the morning. 1t is 1880. 1t
| is 2 o'clock. 1t is $50 when he comes
staggering through the hall. Do you say
that young man is yet alive? No; he is
dead. Dead to his fathers entreaties.
Dead to his mothers prayers. Dead to
the family altar where he was reared
| Dead to the noble ambitions that once
| inspired him. Twice dead. Only
| corpse of what he once was. Gibbeted
before God and man and angels and
devils. Chained in death that will
not loosen its cold grasp. His father is
asleep, his brothers are asleep, his
sisters are asleep, but his mother is
watching him, watching him in the
night After he has gone to bed and
fallen into drunken sleep, his mother
will 60 up to his room and see that he
is properly covered, and before she
turns out the light will put kiss upon
his bloated lips. Mother, why don't
you go to bed?" "Ah!" she says, II
can not 60 to bed am Rizpah watch
| ing the slain"'
But must spur on our Arab steed,
| and here we come in sight Of Beeroth,
said to be the place where Joseph and
Mary missed the boy Jesus on the way
| from Jerusalem to Nazareth, going
home now from a great national fes-
tival "Where is my child Jesus?' says
Mary. Where is my child Jesus?" says
Joseph. Among the thousands that are
| returning from Jerusalem they thought
that certainly He was walking on in the
crowd. They described Him, saying:
'sHe is twelve years old, and of light
complexion and blue eyes. A lost
childr' Great excitement in all the
crowd. Nothing so stirs folks as the
news that child is lost i shall not
forget the sceLe when in a great out
door meeting was preaching and some
one stepped on the platform and said
that a child was lost. We went on with
the religious service, but all our minds
were on the lost child. After awhile a
man brought on the platform beauti-
full little tot that looked like piece
of Heaven dropped down, and said:
Here is that child" And forgot
all that l was preaching about,
and lifted the child to my shoulder
and said: Here is the lost child, and
the mother will come and get her right
away. or will take her home and add
her 10 my own broodr And some cried
and some shouted. and amid all
that crowd l instantly detected the
mother. Every body had to get out
of her way or be walked over. Hats
were nothing, and shoulders were moth
ing, and heads were nothing in her
pathway, andsI realized something OF