The Washington herald., 1908-02-23
BY ETHEL THERESA HueLI-cAMP.

BY ETHEL THERESA HUGLI-CAMP.
The bare limbs OF The forest were
clothed in frost as ] passed through Ct on
my way 20 the funeral. Frost cracked
under my feet in the forest paths. and
few In little. sharp flakes from the
branches as the wind disturbed the grace
ful drapery OF the trees. The sky was
ieaden and the cold piercing Alice. the
only daughter of A prominent Bernese
family. was dead.
The costume prescribed by Bernese Gus
tom for people attending a funeral is
black, uncQmpronllslng and unrelieved
The ladies. otherwise well dressed. are
unrecognizable IN hats and coats that
though black, belong usually 70 an earlier
style. The men are unhappy and stiff IN
their black frock coats and silk hats. gar
men1s almost exclusively used for fu-
nerals. and therefore Of austere and for
bidding aspect, besides very much out or
fashion.
Ny long. black skirt was hard 10 man
age IN the forest. and the fur on my up
turned collar froze TO my cheek The
river was low and brown. instead OF
bsoyant and indigo. and my footsteps
rang hollow as crossed the bridge and
mounted the hiu road. From there I
looked back at the forest The trees
stretched up. not bare and dead arms,
but arms loaded with silYery powder.
only waiting for n ray OF sun TO make
them glisten and glitter with winter
cheer. But the sky was Ieaden.
Tho hin road nee o.
few steps along the high road by the
mossy stone fence and 1 would be al the
front gate. wondered how the immense
cheerful drawlng-room. with its yellow
broeade chairs and draperies would look
under the circumstances. knew the
woman in charge OF the funeral. with her
rusty. stringy crepe veil. and her pro-
fessionally sad smile and voice Cshe
makes me shudder every time see her.
but she seems an indispensable adjunct 10
a Bernese funeraD would have done her
best to make the place look like NOR
tuary chapel She had. On the walls,
covering the pictures and mirrors We're
thin, black draperieS over the piano a
black cloth. around the plant stand and
over all the brlc-a-orac the same, and in
front Of the semi-circle OF chairs. whose
yellow brocade was powerless 10 enliven
the black. was Alice's tea table. covered
with a fringed black cloth The friends
on entering. We're greeted by the stricken
father and his son. We sat around IN
silence. Some ladies sobbed
At 3 all the chairs were filled. but two.
In a room to sthe LEFT slept Alice in her
garden OF roses and violets. waiting to
be taken TO the crematorium in Zurich.
They had put a white veil over her fore
head II seemed 10 me bad taste 70 make
such sad thing so very much sadder.
l wondered what the pastor would say
in his address. just before he appeared.
a weeping. trembling. bowed old woman.
with closed eyes and streaming cheeks.
was lead IN and seated on one Of the
empty chairs. her sister taking the other.
This was the proud mother whose head
had always been held so high. II seemed
to me inhuman 10 make her so expose
her woe. and trife Indecent Il IS the
custom here, however. In Bern this is
the answer 10 every criticism
The pastor took HIS place behind AHce's
tea table. opened his book and began 10
read about man being ike the grass
which is cut down IN the evening This
being his text. he enlarged upon Il in
connection with this extremely sad oc-
casiOn. He recalled the loving affection
ate character Of the girl. her care Of the
household that her mother might be free.
OF her intelligence, her ambitions He
spoke OF the bright hopes that had been
blasted by this death. OF the dark future
thar awaited the family. He went on
and on in the same strain. lie plunged
the knife IN again and again He turned
X in the wound He laceraIed that mother
heart I was on the point Of standing up
20 protest. Were We really IN the twen-
tieth century. and could sit BY idly
weeping, while a man OF God thus tor
tured his victim, She sank lower and
lower. Her sohs redoubleG- Up 10 now
her grief lad been dumb and crushing.
inarticulate Now he took Il and shaped
Il into words. Such cruelty-such re-
fnement Of savagery. The mother
writhed. and we all sObbed.
The address ended. he whispered a word
TO the mother, and slipped away while
we all crowded around her with our poor
words Of cheer.
No" 1 cried. when once out Of the
terrible place, Never will bow 70 this
custom OF Bern. II God takes from me
one Of my dear ones shall DEFY All
custom and have my own service. That
horrible black-robed female shall not
touch one or mine. no Grape shall cover
uD my pretty things, no harpy OF a pas
tor shall tear my heart open in public.
Never, neveri"
Blindly I turned down the high road.
my throat aching, my eyes full. What
a scene-what a scene What a heart
less, soulless man OF God, I reflected. so
TO torture where he was expected 10
heal
The way turned. and the hillroad in
all its snowy whiteness lay before me.
Half way up toiied a bent old woman.