The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1895-04-24
PEASANT LIFE IN ARMENIA.
A Fine People Who Are at the Mercy
of the savage Turk.

Correspondence of London Telegraph.
In spite of their ignorance. however, the
people are plain, Simple Christians, as ear
dental brethren. They have the courage OF
their convictions. A Sassunian never eats
meat on a fast day, and would grieyousIy
number of fast days is legion. Neither do
they ever drink a drop of alcohol, wine or
man, and would expei the villager who
was not. The people of Dalori do. il is
true, make wine, but they would as soon
every drop of 1t in Mush to people who be-
lieve in wine and true religion The rude.
of worship, are devoid Of belfry or cam
PAMELA, nor can we speak OF the sweet
loves a dirge-like sound,' and the Sussun
villages have humored her. for before the
door of every church there Is a metal
is beaten with an iron drumstick, and the
sounds thus evoked are funereal to a de-
gree.
Sassun has a patron saint all to itself--a
very powerful parsonage. too, in the celes-
tial hierarchy-yclept st. Marope. In his
these simple peasants have absolute conf
dence. Hence 1t was, when the hour or
danger was at hand during the late BUTCH
cry, that three hundred Women and girls
entered the Church of st. Marope in Da-
lori, commencing themselves to his protec.
ton, and fully convinced that they would
return unscathed. And where Is his
power If he didn't so protect them?' asked
one witness OF me some months ago. But
a very great feast-indeed, except Christi
mas and Easter, the greatest festival in all
the year-is that of st. Sarkis (the Ar
identifed with Christianity that to call Il
man a son of Sarkis was. and still X.
tantamount among Mohammedans to CALI
ing him a Christian9 1t is a movable feast,
and falls between the 9Th of January and
the first day of Lent, but always on Sum
day
During the week preceding st. Sarkis
Day there is a black bird, hard fast. Moth
day. The fast is Wen broken on Wednes-
day. On Saturday there Is no real re-
freshment but the younger unmarried
take of cake and salt, so as to have
dreams of water; and it is a sacred rule.
nately be verified. that every young man
must marry the girl who gave him fresh
IN all other er'I parts Of Armenia that young
man would simply and unhesitatingly take
the girl that his father suggested, even
if he knew little of her charms and less
of her character. But, then, the Sassunians
have ever been a law unto themselves.
menians. quaint superstitions, natures old
credulities, flourish as nowhere else.
In the daytime they are always busy.
from sunrise to sunset, the men looking
after the horses, sheep and cattle, weav-
ing WOODEN stuffs, tilling. moving, reaping.
or, if they be we'll off themselves. SUPER
intending the work of their hired laborers:
and the women milking, making cheese,
tsIor r maaSSs s ohss, em abro Ter gs apr, aprons;
~
the e~arthenware lamp that Through the
spacious room teaches light to counterfeit
a gloom The songs which they sing when
they come together of a summers evening
in the spacious tent, or in the dimly lighted
room in winter, are, / regret to say, sell
dom genuine folk songs. They still possess
fragments of h~alf-forgotten epics, legends.
and narratives, curious mixtures of Chris
tianity and paganism. Their local ditties
are full of obscure illusions and provincial
idioms. The smiths, for instance. who are
half miners, have their own song, the re-
frain of which Is, II hammer the iron, day
and night, | forge s&bers, sharp and trusty
daggers; difficult is my daily toll, but I'm
gay because I'm freei' Another sang. which
is the patrimony of no particular class OF
the population, has the following verse,
which is often literally true: II first saw
the light in a deep gorge b~ristling with
rocks, an old oak tree was my rocking
cradle; born naked, 1 was brought up
naked, exposed to sun and winds; I sleep
with my trusty Weapons, am ever dreaming
of war and blood; the battle is the game
that l love best, n warriors death the
sleep for which l yearn." The song usually
sung by these hardened mountainers,
whose skin is often tanned as dark and
feels as tough as durable leather. are the
compositions of contemporary poets. of
Raphael Patkanean, and of Mihran DANA
dian, who was arrested by the Turks some
time ago, after which he disappeared mys-
teriously and for good.