Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1897-09-13

ko\N - who keeps the vertu
SSW shop on Wardour
AN\N street. [ had sew
q w VO eral holidays on hand
and knew of no more delightful way
of spending an idle hour than in look
ing over old Azral's collection of vertu,
which had great fascination for me.
The old man. who had taken quite a
fancy to me--probably because could
appreciate his love for the bizarre and
antique-and who even became quite
chatty at times, was venerable He
brew who boosted descent from David.
Contrary to the traditional character
istics of his race, he was frank and
open -handed-I had found him even
generous.
A fine old fellow he was, tall, maies-
tic, with a long white beard sweeping
his breast; stately and slow in speech,
polite, but not cringing, with that
self-respecting courtesy which Dickens
gives us in Riah, the "Godmother. |
cannot say why, but he was my mind
picture Of Aaron-he had a sort of
silent eloqu once about him. Without
kith or kin, he lived in the love of his
relics, his children he called them.
Aud rare and exquisite, but decided
ly diversified, family he had.
The shop, which was wedged in be-
tween a jewelers. on one hand and
secondhand book dealers on the
other, was narrow and low, but ex-
tended back some distance. On
shelves in the walls, on tables, in
drawers were spread the objects of his
passion in the most enchanting disre-
gard for the conventional modes of ar
rangement. Here a shelf of old
Dutch faience showed stout burgomas-
ters in blue and yellow. Next was a
shelf from which cleaned arms and
cutlery, swords, real Damascus blades,
of so magnificent temper as to admit
OF being bent in circle. Here was a
bureau drawer full of exquisite ivory
carvings, crucitixes and amulets of rich
and varied workmanship side by side
with diminutive Persian narghiles and
squat Chinese iosses. In the next was
agate from japanese lapidaria, along
with wood fretwork from Geneva and
Jet from Cornwall. Here hung paint
ing of Cimabue, here one of Guido,
there one of Benjamin West.
To examine such a curiosity shop
was my delight, and l often resorted
there. He had lately bought stock
of Moorish jewelry, and asked me to
examine it. l eagerly complied, and
while looking it over saw curious
breastpin that Immediately attracted
my attention. A delicate little golden
heart held together two swords crossed
The swords were each about three
inches long, one Scotch claymore of
pure green gold, the baskethilt of the
most beautiful lace-like arabesoue
tracery of gold interviewer with silver.
AT the end of the handle sparkled
tiny topaz, scintilating like an impris-
oned sunbeam. The other was an
Eastern simitar, with broad, slightly
curving blade and an edge of some
white metal, possibly silver. At the
cross-piece of the handle there was a
ruby, and at each end of the cross
piece diamond OF the purest water.
The heart bore two inscriptions, one
IN Arabic and one in Latin.
The Latin was "Gladii duo, cor
unum." The whole thing had rich
exotic look about it that stimulated
my curiosity. | asked my venerable
friend if might buy it.
NO" he said slowly-''no, that is
not for sale; but if you like it 1 will
tell you its history"
replied that nothing would please
me better
'That breastpin, said he, sis a
trust confided to me. Last year was
in the Holy Land with my mother, in
Jerusalem. Once on a journey to visit
my klusman, Javan, at Damascus, |
came upon poor Turk half dead by
the wayside. He had been attacked
and beaten by robbers so that he was
dying, / got off my beast, and went
to him and tried to lift him up. He
attempted to speak. Bending close. /
caught the question in Arabic:
Art thou Jew?'
" Il am.
" L had some faint hope that thou
vert a Christian, a European, per.
chance an Englishman.
=" 4 live in England, in London, /
said.
The dying man clasped his hands.
Allah is good, he whispered. DC
thou lift my head up. L have trust.
1 will contide it to thee. Here his
breath came thick and l could scarcely
hear the words. My father-made
me promise-to get his-to-James
called Thurs-by - Lon--it-nay,
by the beard of the Prophet, will tell
thee, he cried, starting up it is
but the spark of life was almost out
1t fiickered, and he had only strength
to put his hand into his bosom and