Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-08-11
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forgetting too often that the Tarpeian rock
near the capitol %: look fn the box OF
dominoes. each OF You, and refect:'
The curtain Is drawn aside. Down a long
vista. brightly lighted. is seen an open cof-
I'm standing on one end. They ask Mac
cabee de bonnie volonte to sacrifice himself
TO benefit the others.
The origin Of death continues the grave
digger. lis lost in the dim shades cf the
most remote antiquity. In every age man
mas kicked the bucket (deNisse son billiard,
tot ca tandD, sooner or later. at the age II
Sbs years like Methuselah, or Immediately
on arriving underneath the nishtcas or
the heavens, like the still-born. II follows.
then. that We should continue this sweet
habit. If only for the annoying Of deputy
sherius landlords and other parasites who
constitute the despair of a good half OF
humanity
One Of the spectators stems out. half
ashamed. half smiling half repucaant two
thirds curious and three-fourths anxious to
shine in the eyes Of the community. lie is
ied on, TO reaPpear beside the coffin in the
distance. pdrlor organ strikes up a ois-
tres sing hymn-tune. as they make the man
stand In the coffin. Undoubtedly IL Is the
same man. smiling I'm a sickly fashion TO
his friends down I'm the audience. The
transforma ton In him that will soon take
place is brought about by magIe-lantem
effects, as in dissolving views
How Death Is Simulated.
The man stands in the coffin, and they
tuck sheet around him. leaving only his
face uncovered. The attendant disappears
The man looks at you from his coffin; az
he looks at you his face grows whittier.
Often enough the 'sub1ect'' is an adven-
turous girl If you harpen to know her
face. from having seen her In the public
balls or in the festive summer gardens. YOU
ieel very serious to see her there so white
and still
The horrii parlor organ goes on with its
horrid HYMN.
ifph "A
There is a smell of phenol and old bones.
sometimes girl or woman in the su-
dience has a crosse de rerfs at this point
and Is led of sObbing: but the spectators
Tor the most part sit still, staring blankly
at The white face in the coffin. The face
takes on a greenish-yelow tint. il softens.
seems 10 decompose. then hardens. as the
eyes grow big and black. The body, COW
cred by the sheet, begins to shine through
dlmly. A yellow mass that loses flesh that
shows It's bones. The sheet is disappearing.
The light grows more intense. The coffin
holds a rigid bony skeleton and nothing
more The man who had stepped up 50
9auntly from out the audience to step I'm
the corin-he IL gone. The girl. who looked
80 umid. s. pathetic, SO pitiful. SO pitiable,
Nss and 50 lOvable-because the white light
raled and purified her miserable little face,
because II showed a solemn look you had
not noticed IN her eyes and lips befcre-the
girl l. gone. All that is left is the dread
thing Of bones The voice OF the grave
digger speaks OF death in a dogmatic tone:
N
often in the face"
There il an awful silence. The spectators
Use up. one by one and step out. Stun
bling 10 the street
The cafe de Ia Mort is not a missionary
enterprise. They only charge YOU for the
beer. They take up no collection. Yet the
paF!or organ, with its hymn tunes has a
strangely familiar sound TO those OF Us
who had our early days in country villages
IN far-away America. And the insulting
language OF tie walters and the Snowman.
as they cali u morgue slabs. Seine-rot.
phuSlques ana tuberculCuN, call up a faint
remembrance OF not altogether dissinilar
expressions hurled at audiences or breathei
IN pra yer on Sunday mornings or on We'd
rcsday evenings in the old stone church or
IN tho little wooden chapel. We were in
formed that all our righteousness was
dirty rags. and that We were wounds and
putrefying sores. II is but natural
Ana there are Paris journalists who have
not heSiJat-d 10 improve the opportunity
and read a sermon On the Cafe de Ia Mort.
Albert tremieuN. in the Jour. tells how lie
visited the plao" i'm company OF young
friend OF thirty wears Of age. q charmaut
garcon. with rudy. laughing face. a
young man. strong. alert asl4 rcsulgte.
who, under the n.asK OF an amisble irony.
concealed a spirit skepJical and fearless.
They came. they saw. Al the last moment.
when the patron was dvciaimiug: We
shah not fear him ii We look Him often IN
me lace n says We SIN laughed. but
We laughed green" Then they walked
OF Z.
Il cast glance Al my companion. lie
was green. yellow. violet his eyes we're
CLASSY. and the smile vas fixed upor MS
lips. he walked Ike a Cataienttc. We kent
on walking more than half hour and
neither OF as said d word. Then he swors
solemniy that he would never 60 ba * ID
the Cafe de IA Mort"
And these are the rev attractions which
they over to the youth o. our day. Yet
there are people Nhp deny French gay-ty.
He was right that grave digger. Poor
things that We nave become, Fer Il Is
true that the malaiy OF death is the
Il. alaay Of our ase Bat has this terrifying
Spectacle augEt in il that Viil cure u.s.
That was certainly the :iea o. BoSs1aet. II
Moiiere. ana Of NOltlire, bat not that Of
Pascal. who cried CIT with pain amid the
horrible torture 81 brain exhaustion. '.The
Only remedy for death is never % think Il
it,"
Almost with one accord ths Paris sour
naiists declare that this cafe ot dea-h j the
last word, the finishing touch and The eN-
JnCuisher OF all the now eT,te So-catlei
artistic cafes and I'm de steele Cabarets''
which have been fouriShipg fog years In
ii is found the legitimate conclusion OF
all their progressive exploitation Of rigo-
lettes and soJteneurs thieves a. Sassins
anarchists and all the horrors Of ;he dirty
Stun life, which they served mp In pictures
a a. sir walls.~1n songs. IN verses and in
r~citations. The public taste viii soon re-
Volt against the cafe de Ia Mort. ana when
1t disappears the others viii have disap-
Pcared before.
STERLING HELLO.