The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1897-07-29

costs about IA as much. All grocers sell it. 15c
| and Zoe.
and flowers, is unknown in Latin Amer
lea, the over crowded tombs being set
close together, as if sanctitied space was
extremely scarce The six-tier tomb will
contain very very bodies, for the fear of
premature resurrection by earthquake rem
ders that form of sepulture unpopular
| Towards the rear Of the cemetery you en-
counter long, narrow, and very low
building of succeed adobe, with flight
of stone steps leading downward at either
end. Descending, you find a cellar like
passage, the walls of which are lined with
tombs, five tiers in height. Nearly all
these inches are filled, the ends ceiled
with slabs of black or white marble, on
each of which is carved name and date OF
death. The birth, or age is seldom given
"a noticeable popularity of all these
cemeteries, as well as the absence of
Scripture texts, sentiments, verses, etc.
As a rule, nothing but name is inscrib-
ed Another curious fact is that adults
and children are seldom buried together.
At one end of this underground mauso-
leum is large collection minia-
| ture cenotaphs, monuments and slabs,
exactly initiating the larger ones
evidently the ehildren's department
Somehow it makes ones heart ache and
inspires the hope that the poor little
ghost babies are not separated from their
ghost mothers in the Land of Shadows
On the highest knoll of the cemetery is
a lofty stone obelisk, which was erected
by the government in memory of the Qua
temalan hero, General Zavala, who died
American visitors is the sepulchre of Die
tator Balrios, the friend of America, who,
with all his cruelty, did more for his
+ country than any other man. Above it
rises a slender broken column of white
marble, set in heap of rough marble
blocks. SO far it is tolerably artistic; but,
nt4"HSc " say, IL 1oSto upon d great,
square. wooden cenotaph which is cheap
ly painted to represent marble, but really
represents nothing but painted wood.
Another day, against the advice of
Guatemalan acquaintance, we visited
the Indian cemetery, which lies beyond
the southern edge of the city. A more
desolate and forbidding Goods acre" if
SO it can be called, was never seen. Not
a tee nor Hover beauties the place, the
only attempt at decoration being a fe "
rude monuments of whitewashed adobe
The aIched vaults of dried mud are
shaped very much like Dutch bake ovens.
and the level spaces between are crowded
one another, mostly uncotfined, since the
foundation of the city. Some recent
burials are marked by an upright stick !;
others by two sticks tied together in the
form Of a cross; but generally there is
nothing to distinguish one grave from an
other in the vast charnel ground
turns up skulls and marrow bones. which
he scrapes back when piling the dirt upon
new tenant, OF losses upon the mis-
cellaneous collection of bones heaped in
one corner of the enclosure to await the
semi-annual burning. Our visit to this
cemetery happened to be timed at the
customary hour for interments, and we
were the unwilling spectators of several.
The first was evidently that of a wealthy
Indian, for he occupied painted coffin, a
rare honor for dead Quche. The pro-
cession was a long one headed by brass
band and tailed by several hired female
mourners, who certainly wept and walled
their moneys worth. The coffin, an or
binary box, built long and narrow. was
covered with black and white paper, and
decorated on both sides with skull and
cross bones, the former looking exactly
like the head which children scratch upon
a Jack lantern. While the Indian
Dives was being lowered to his rest, amid
the prayers of priests and the bowling
of hired mourners, the band PLAYED an
exhilerating quickstep. Meanwhile a
poor Mozo had been brought in on the
shoulders of four fellow servants. The
body, on rude bier made of poles dashed
together, was naked except for cloth
about the loins, and was so shaken by the
movement of the carriers that it momen-
tarily threatened to topple off upon their
heads. A petate, (straw mat was spread
beside the open grave and the body rolled
in it. Then it was discovered that the
grave was too short. Nobody thought of
charging the hole, but the gruesome
bundle was unrolled and the knees drawn
up; then the mat was spread over again
tent fashion, and the dirt shoveled on,
but for some time after all the rest was
covered, those knees stuck up like a
miniature Fuji-san. Finally all was COW
cred and a crossed stick set up atop: no
music, no prayers, no hired weepers. But
perhaps the tears of the bare footed
women who had loved him in life and
who fingered disconsolate beside the