Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1911-01-13

The dim light 1t furnished disclosed
a weird and silent assembly. The space
was crowded with strange glimmering
deities-of bronze, of silver, of priceless
goId-lacquer-the dust thick on their
faces, their aureols misty with cobwebs.
Some gazed with passionless serenity,
or blessed with outstretcned hand; some
threatened with scowling faces and
clenched thunderbolts: Jizo of the tender
smile, in whose sleeves nestle the souls
of dead children: Kwan-on, of divine
compassion, with her many hands; EN-
lna-dai-O, Judge of the Dead, menacing
and terrible; strange sardonic tengu, half
bird, half-human.
The master of this celestial and in
fernal pantheon closed and locked the
door, and mounted the stairway to the
loft-a low, rambling room of eccentric
shape. under the curving gables.
Here. through a long window beneath
the very caves, the light still came
brightly In the corner was broad
table, Uttered with delicate carving tools.
he kindled the charcoal in bronze
hibachi, and set over it q copper pot
which began to emit thick weedy odor.
From a cabinet he took phials contain
ing various powders. and measured into
the pot a portion from each. Lastly he
added a quantity of gold-leaf, slowly,
flake by flake. At one side a white silk
cloth was draped over a PEDESTAL; he
drew this away and looked at the unfin-
ished figure it had concealed 1t was
an image CT Kwsn-en. the All Merciful.
Thorn crossed the room and leaning
his elbows on the window-edge, looked
out Through the odor OF incense the
nonotonous information of the liturgy rose
with a grandeur of a. Gregorian chant
"Shujo kikon-yaku
Muryoku bisshin
Kwan-on myochiriki
Nolku sekenku.'
Gle who is in distress-when immeas-
urable suffering presses ON him-Kwan-
on, all-wise and all-powerful, can save
him from the worlds calamity)
Once. while the quiet yard echoed back
the slow cadences of the antique tongue
the watchers eyes turned to the image
on the PEDESTAL then came back to an
object that drew them-had drawn them
for many days against his willi-the
white cross of the Chapel. A last glow
of refracted light touched 1t now, as red
as blood, a symbol of the infinite passion
and pain A long time he stood there.
The twilight deepened. the chant ceased.
lights sprang up along the lane. night
fell with It's sickle moon and crowding
stars, but still he stood, his face between
his hands.
At length he turned, and cropping for
the cloth threw 1t over the Kwan-on and
lit a lamp swinging from a huge brass
censer. Unlocking an alcove, he took
out a fieece-wrapped bundle and sweep
ing the tools to one side, set IL on the
table. He carefully closed the window
and thrust bar through the staple of
the door before he unwrapped It,
When the fleece was removed, he prop
per the image it had contained upright
on the table. He poured into a shallow
plate a few drops of the liquid heating
over the fire. bowl-under the lamplight
it CLEANED and sparkled like molten
gold-and with small brush, using infin-
tie care, began to lay the lacquer on Its
carven surface.
Once, at a sound in some room below
perhaps the movement of a servant
he stopped and listened intently. 1t was
as If he worked by stealth, at some labor
if-forbidden, to which an impulse,
overmastering though half-denied, drove
him IN secret.
1t was a cricinx with dead Christ
upon It.