Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1894-02-02
CHAPTER ".
KATnLEEN's AYocAYIoY.

KATIILEEE'S AYocATIoN.
Whit Sunday May on the threshold Of
June, the very dawn of summer; bit tho
sun, which hitherto has shone pitiless
searching light upon scenes Of death AID hor-
rer, shines no more. Stormy Minds beat
and buster against that feeble Old house in
the Rue Git IL Ceur, with sound and fury
as OF thunder; the cannoDaao Of heaven
takes up tho canuonade OF earth, and echoes
it with twenty-fold power. TempestEous
rain lashes the windows, like the spIay
from seetling ocean. The cannon Of Mont
Marie thunders against the heights Of
Bellevile and AIenlmontant The ins,r-
geStS reply with savage fury, blind, reck-
less, deluglng Paris with shells.
And while the pitiless struggle still goes
oil upon the nights Of Belleyille, the day of
reprsals has already begun for the insur-
gents. From Mazas they bring hundred
and forty-eight prisoners, hastily huddle4
into the prison yesterday. In the stormy
Sunday morning, Whitsuntide morning,
they arc marched 10 tAe cemetery Of Pers
Lachaise, amonS tho trees and the flowers
and the marsle monuments Of the disin-
g,liShed dead; and there, hard by that conf
mon grave where the murdered Archbishop
and his companions lie in their bloody
Int patches Of ten, and shOt 10 death. They
do bravely, Joining hands and crying, Long
live the Communist with their last breath.
In the prison of Little Raquette, at about
the same hour, two hundred and twenty
seven insurgents meet the same doom; not
quite so boldly for some of these. said an
eyewitness, were snlveIlers, and begged for
mercy.
The final hour has come; those shells are
verify the death-rattle of the Commune.
Thirty thousand men are said to be cOncen-
traied upon this point of Paris, where they
have built up giant barricades, almost I'M
peHetrabls fsrtresses, communicating with
each other by underground passages, Won
der OF rough and ready masonry and skill.
They are held in this supreme hour by men
Of desperate courage, men who have sworn
not to surrender.
Two O'Clock on that stormy Sabbath; and
50 far there has been neither rest nor re-
spite. CanRen, mitrallleuse, chassepet,
laundering, rafting roaring, kissing; but
new as tina afternoon wears on there ceme
intervals OF silepce- The cannenade pauses
to draw breath. The sounds Of battle seem
more reMote-they die away In the distance.
Then silence.
Silence Are they all dead?
This Is Sunday, the day when the laborer
rests from his toll; but to-day there has
boen only one laborer, and his name is
Death.
Evening, and for the first time for many
weeks and many days no more cannon. o
happy silence Of peace Or should we not
rather say silence OF death?
A column Of six thousand prisoners who
have surrendered ut Bslleville slowly defile
aleng the boulevard; and this is verify the
end. Yes, the cup Of deselatisn has been
drained 10 the drogs. There have been the
sword to slay, and the dogs TO tear, and the
fowls Of tho heaven and the beasts OF the
earth to dsvour and destroy, as in the day
of tho Prophet; only the dogs have been
human dogs, and the beasts have been hui
nan boasts; and the whirlwind Of tho Lord
has gone forth with fury, continuing
whirlwind, and It has fallen with pain upon
the head Of ths wicked; and On the head of
tho good and just, and innocent and gentle
also.
The sacred month Of May, month dedl-
Gated to the hely mother Of God, was over
-menth Of May nevor 10 bs forgotten by
the French people, May whioh has left It's
iHaellble mark upoa the city Of Paris-and
now all the gates Of the city were opened,
and the world came 10 see the work Of des-
trastioa. Bnglish, Amsricans, foreigners
of adj kinds weat about looking at the ruins,
as at Psmpsn or Hspoulsnsum, crltoising,
examining, somewhat disappointed that the
haves was not more universal.
On the TN u June came the funeral pro-
ceasisn If Monsignor Dsrbey, tho third
Archbishop Of Paris murdered within a
qusrtsr Of ceBtury. Under rray and
sunless shy the ear with It's long tsuia OF
meurnsrs, soldiers, people, soismniy, silent
ly dsdied along the quays, past Me stiil
snculdering ruins Of palaces and mansions.
No roll OF drums, no fanelal music broke