Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1894-08-03

forgotten"
The morning came at last. but when il
came found | was too stiff and sore Ia
rise. About seven job arrived limpine
terribly, and with his face the color of a
rotton apple, aud told me that Leo had
slept fairly, but was very weak. Two
hours after Bilali, dob called him "Billy
goat, to which, indeed, his white beard
gave him some resemblance. or more ia
miliarly, Billy, came too. bearing a
lamp in his hand, his towering form reach
ing nearly to the roof Of the little chamber.
pretended to be asleep, and through the
cracks of my eyelids watched his sardonic
but handsome old face. He fixed his
hawk-like eyes upon me, and stroked his
glorious white beard, which, 10y the way
would have been worth hundred "a year
to any London barber rs an advertisement
"Ahw heard him mutter (}lllali had IA
habit of muttering to himselD, che is ugly
ugly as the other is beautlful--a very
Blboon ii was very good name. But |
like the man. Strange, now, at my aye,
that should like man. What says the
proverbY--'M istrust all men, and Stay
him whom thou mistrustest overmuch
and as for women, flee tlou from them,
for they are evil, and in the end will de-
stroy thee. Il is good proverb, espe-
cially the last part; think it must have
come down from the ancients. Neverthe-
less, like this Balloon, and | wonder
where they taught him his tricks, and |
trust that She will not bewitch him.
Poor Baboon he must be weared after
that fight. Will go lest should awake
him. D."
| waited till he had turned, and was
nearly through the entrance, walking soft
ly on tiptoe, and then called after him.
"My father" | said, rs it thou?"
Yes, my son, 1t is |; but let me not
disturb thee. did but come to see how
thou didst fare, and to tell thee that those
who would have slain thee, my Baboon,
are by now well on their road to She.
She said that we were to come also at once
but fear we can not yet.
Nay" said, mot till we have re-
covered little; but have me borne out
into the daylight. pray thee, my father
| like not this place.
"Ah, no." he answered; sit hath sad
air. | remember when | was boy
found the body of fair woman lying
where you lie now yes, on that very
bench. She was SO beautiful that | used
to creep in here with lamp and gaze up
on her. Had it not been for her cold
hands, almost could think that she sleeps,
and would one day awake, so fair and
peaceful was she in her robe of white
White was she too, and her hair was yell
low, and lay down her almost TO the feet.
There are many such still in the tombs at
the place where She is, for those who set
them there had a way, | know naught of,
of keeping their beloved out of the hands
of decay, even when Death had slain them.
All, day by day came hither, and gazed
on her, till at lsst-laugh not at me,
stranger, for was but a silly lad learn
ed to love that dead form, that shell that
once had held life that no more is.
wonld creep up to her aud kiss her cold
face, and wonder how many men had
lived and died since she was, and who
had loved her and embraced her in the
days that long had passed away, And
my Baboon, think learned wisdom
from that dead one, for of truth it taught
me of the littleness OF life, and the length
of Death, and how all things that are
under the sun go down one path, and are
forever forgotten. And so | unused, and
1t seemed to me that wisdom flowed into
me from the dead one, till one day my
mother, a watchful woman. but hasty
minded, seeing was changed, followed
me, and saw the beautiful white one, and
feared was bewitched, as, indeed, was.
SO half in fear and half in anger, she
took the lamp, and standing the dead one
up against the wall there, set fire to hei
hair, and she burned fiercely, even dowr
TO the feet for those who are thus kept
burn eXcellently well. See. my son, there
on the roof is yet the smoke Of her burn
ing
looked up doubtfully, and there, SURE
enough, on the roof of the sepulcher was
peculiarly unctuOus and sooty mark
three feet or more across Doubtless II
had in the course of years been rubbed of
the sides of the little cave, but on the
roof it remained, and there was no mis-
taking its appearance.
"She burned he went on. in a media
tive way, "even TO the feet, but the feet
came back and saved, cutting the burned
bone from them, and hid them under the
stone bench there, wrapped up in piece
of linen Surely, remember it as though
it were but yesterday. Perchance they
are there. if none have found them, even
to this hour. OF a truth | have not enter
ed this chamber from that time to this
very day. Stay, will look, and kneel-
ing down, he CROPPED about with his Ion 9
arm in the recess under the stone bench.
Preser ly his face Frightened and with an
exclamation he pulled something forth
that was caked in dust, which he shook
on TO the floor 1t was covered with the
Of ppftinfr vr,in1, no pn1iI