The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1894-08-12

mails. who know nothing, FORGETTING - Sftsn
that the Tarpeinn rock is near tns pisoi 'O'
io T6a %crrtsin ts dawn Aside. Down q long
vista. brightly lighted. IL seen an open conn
standing on one end They ask : 81 M ,ss osset 81
The origin ~ DEATH" continues the grave.
digger. is Lost in the dim shades Of the most
the bucket Tifrisss son billiard, W on tdrD,
sooner or later. at the age OF e6g years, IKE
Methuselah, or Immediately on arriving .under-
Meath the nightcap of the heavens. IL follows
then that we should continue this sweet haoit'
{ only for the annoying OF deputy shs,ims; i"p me
despair NJ a good half of humanity ~
One Of the spectators steps out, hall asnamed,
Gus. and three fourths anxious 20 shine In the
eyes OF the community. He. is led of, to reap
organ strikes up q distressing hymn tune, as
they mike the man stand in the comm. W.
fashion to his friends down in the audience. The
Transformation in him that Will soon take place
IS brought about by magic-lantern effects. as In
'The man stands in the coffin, and they tuck a
sheet around him, leaving only his face nncoy-
at you from his coffin: AS he looks at yo;i his
face grows whittier. 0ftep enough the snolecI
Z gan M goes "u' ON Sit% it, Shfr oiirid h hymn nS.''G Green lights
btgin to play. There Is a smell OF phenol and
old bones; Sometimes a girl or woman in ne
audience has a criac dc ncrts at this point and Is
led of sobhinc: but the spectators FOR the most
part, sit still, staring blankly, at the white face
III. lif blllu Ht ltf' w " kANph'1h
yellow tint. IT, sofiens, seems to decom-
pnse, then hsrdsns, as the EYES grow hug
besins to shine through dimly, a yellow mass
that loses flesh. that shows its bones. The sheet
is disapgsaring The light grows NOR inten .,ed;
nothing more. The man who had stepped up so
j%sgntily from out the audience to get into The
lovable because the, white light psled and
gone. All that is left is that dread thing Of
bones The voice Of the gravedigger speaks OF
"We shall not fear Il If we look It in the face"
There Is AN awful silence. The spectators
rise mp. one by one, and step out, stumbling, to
TicCaia de la Mort is not a missionary enter
prise They only charge you for the beer. They
it, hymn tunes. has a strangely familiar
sound 10 those Of us VINO had our early days
XXnd Tie insulting Language OF the wait
.rs ana the Snowman. as they cal ns
=. - norsn",Sial seine.roi, .phthisl1ues, ana
altogether dissimilar expressions hurled at au-
dienccs or brcathed in prayer on sunday morn
lnRs or on " ednesday evenings In the old stone
church or in the wooden chapel We were in
formed that all our Righteousness was dirty rags
There are Paris journalists who have not
h~esiiutcd To improve the opportunity aud read a
ss,laGs on IN H., he ,,on CAFE ,sr ae ho Ia ~ Mort ri:i, aIG ,St
place in the comuany OF n young friend OF 80
years of age. u cUi,hdn' L1rcon, with a ruddy. |
iHh y " N',uhe hah hlIohb. aicit,. VII /
resOlute. who, under The mask of an amiaole
irony, concealed Il spirit skeptical and fearless.
Theyc CANE, they saw. At theta moment, when |
the JatrJI was GvC!aiining. W. shall not fear
II u we look II often in the face" he says: I'VE /
still laughed. but we laughed green" Then
they walked out.
Il cast "A glance nj my companion. He was
green. yellow, violet; his eyes were CLASSY, and
he smile was fixed upon his lips. He walked
like II cataicptic. We kept on walking more
than a half hour. and neither Of us said IA word.
hr swOre solcinnly that he would never
go back to the CAFE de la Mort.
And these are the new attractions which
they Offer to the youth OF our day! Yet there
are people who deny French gaypty! lie was
right. that grAve-higger. Poor things that we
have become. For II is true that the malady of
Heath Is thc n!alady of our age. But has this I
spectacle augut in IL that will cure
US That wa certainly The idea OF Bossuet. Of
Molierc, and OF Nuitlirc, hut not that NJ Pascal.
who cried out with pain amid the horrible tor
lure Of brain eNhaustion: The only remedy for
leEth Is never - think Of it,"
Almost With one accord the Paris journalists
'eclnre that this Gaze ~ Death is the last word.
IlC finishing touch. and the cxtinguislcr Of al
he now efrtc so-called artistic cafes" and
lin de steele cabarets" which have been
for years. In it is found the legiti-
nate conclusion of all their progressive cxplOita-
lion OF gigoiettes and soutcncurs, thieves, assass-
ms. Anarchists. and all the horrors Of the
itTry slum-life, which they served up in pictures
IN their walls, in songs. III verses, and in recita-
ions. The public taste will soon revolt against
he Cate de IL Mort: and when II disappears, the
others will have disappeared before.
STERLING HELLO.