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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (April 16, 1911)
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX, PORTLAXD, AFItrLi 16, 1911. EVERY SECTION OF GLOBE HAS PLC U LIAR CUSTOMS A Study of Them at This Time Is Full of Interest. Many Are of Great Antiquity. One of the Most-Interesting and Ancient Is Ceremonies Connected With Kindling of the Holy Fire in Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem.. America as,Well as Europe Has Her Own Ways of Celebrating Easter. GREAT number of Interesting ceremonies are connected with the celebration of Kaster. which In Ita religious significance constitutes the festival of the Resurrection, al though Kaster day Is always the first Sunday after the pascal moon; that Is. the full moon which happens upon, next after. March II. the beginning of the ecclesiastical year, and If the full moon happens on a Sunday. Easter day Is the next Sunday after. The baking of cakes is not uncon nected with the Saxon goddess. Eastr. the festival which was annually kept about the same time as Kaster. It has always been a time of rejoicing, both as a period when 1-ent was completed and aa a ceremony, symbolising the coming of Spring. The custom of the Easter egg per petuates, the Idea of revival of life which the old ceremony symbolised. In Russia, red eggs are exchanged and caged birds are let loose. At one time. In England. Die Kaster egg was sol emnly blessed by the priest and if elaborately colored was often kpt as an amulet. Imitation eggs made of silver, mother-of-pearl gr bronae are m.'ie In Vienna for the Eter festival. tnce a year, at Kaster-tlnie. Jeru salem Is Invaded by thousands of Ureek I'hurvh 'hrlj-tlan. who come to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre In order to celebrate Kaster. The most Interest ing reremony Is the descent of the sacred fire from heaven. There are no lights vlxlble In the great church, which la densely packed when the procession arrives, followed by the Greek and Ar menian patriarchs who enter the sa cred charI. Presently a carillon of silver belt-, announcra that the fire ha fallen from heaven. Kveryon. rushes to light his candle at the sa-red flame in the Chapel of the Angel. From candle to candle It la passed on until the church Is Illuminated from end to end. It Is transmitted by a courier to the Grotto of Nativity at Bethlehem, another takes It to Jaffa where a Rus sian boat la waiting to convey the sa cred fire to Odesxa and then to the cathedrals of St. IVternburg and Mos cow and the Imperial Chapel. (Jualnt Ceremony of f-j-Mrr. Kaster is celebrated In a very quaint manner among the Moravians dwelling In the fnited States. On Good Friday. In the afternoon, la held a crucifixion service. This solt-mn feature Is made more realistic by the tolling of the great' bell In the b fry of the church three times at o clock. Indicative of the hour at which Christ was crucified. About 2 o'clock on Kaster Sunday morning the trombone choir starts out on a tour of the town. At each street corner quaint old German cborala are played. The object la to awaken the people and to Inform them that It Is time to be on their way to attend the early Resurrection services In the church. i"trrlfit. 1o. bv the 8horttorv Pub l!.hln i-ompaajr- -opyr1ht secured la .ret Britain. All rights reserved.) BT ASVA M-CI.UR1S SHOL,!. IX the smoking-room of a liner four men were carrying on one of those anecdotal conversations which seem born of the idle life on shipboard- A little Slstanc from the group sat a man who listened intently to all that was being said, but without comment. He had a long, narrow face, restless blue eyes and features which made It difficult to deter mine whether the dominant qualities of hts nature were good or evil. Someone bad Just told a story of a cer tain general' action In the face of Im minent death, and In the pause that fol lowed, the fat. Jovial man, who Is nearly lways In a smoking-room group, said with aa air of reflection: "I've often wondered, mm I suppose we all have, what I'd do if I were told that the last five minutes of my life had come. Vve often wondered how I'd spend them." Th.re would scarcely be time to draw up a will.- the lawyer remarked. -I'd write a few lines to the person I love best," said the college senior, frank ly. His engagement had Just been an nounced. 1 guess I'd make up any quarrel I had on hand." said the stout man. who did not look mm if he could bear malic over night. The fourth member of the group had re mained silent. He was watching the varying expressions which passed over the face of the listening stranger, like a running comment on the conversation. The collegian recalled his attention. "Hartley, how would jou employ the Ust five minutes! " Rlctatrd Hartley paused a moment be fore answering. All eyes- were turned towards him expectantly, as If anything he saM would carry weight with his audi ence. He. himself, was chiefly conscious of tfcs stranger In the corner, who ap peared to be growing uneasy under the continued discussion of the subject. -How would I employ them? I think I'd confes-s my sins, snd ask heaven to have mercy on my soul." He spoke with an honest fervency, which closed the subject, as If the last ord had been said. After a moment's ailenee someone Introduced a new topic. Later In the d-iy. Hartley was ap proached by the stranger of the smoking-room, who had been conspicuous! dur ing the voyage for Ms reserved and eomewhat ungracious manners. After an exchange of commonplaces, under which Hartley veiled bis surprise at these ad vances and the stranger the real object of them, the latter aald: "I was not a little Interested In your answer to tho question nnder tjtscussloa that morning. If you will pardon a per sonal remark. It did not accord with your appearance. Hartley laughed. -p0 i ooa like such a hardened .In ner -'Ok that's Just tho point. Tou look MB-rBB-rs-tBB-rsB-rB-rs-rBB-BBB-rs-BB-BB-H , 3fv, . I f it-' r, fs v G jc?vzaz. acossirjc- I tt(LslS. - , , Zni r &. f! f2$, ff ' T The Moravian Church at Bethlehem. Pa., at the- time of Its erection In 10 J. was the largest church In America. The services are started by the trombone choir stationed In the belfry. They play several selections and then church serv Iree bet-In. These' consist of songs and the reading of a brief litany and songs, and last half an hour. The remaining part of the service takes place In the cemetery, which adjoins the church. ITohabiy the most Interesting secu lar celobratlon of Kaster In this coun try la the annual egg-rolling of the children of Washington on the White House lawn on Kaster Monday. The parada of fahlonable New Tork ers on Fifth avenue on Kaster Sunday In a sight wcrth going miles to see. as Is also the street flower markets In the squares of New York on the Saturday before Kaster Sunday. "Tw-ilnic the rnoake." In England one of the most ancient Lenten .customs which still survive Is is the "tossing of the pancake on shrove Tuesday. This takes place at Westminster School. London, in the presence of the number of scholars, parents and friends. A prize of a guinea Is awarded the scholar who se cures either the whole of or the largest portion of the pancake when It Is thrown over a bar by the school cook. This year It was won by George Furs don, aged IT. In Rome. Easter Is celebrated with Imposing pomp In which his Holiness. the Pope, participates, although not as conspicuously or with aa much mag nificence as when in the full enjoyment of his temporal power. triumphantly happy and easy in your mind, as IX your conscience were ae clear as crystal. I was attracted to you first by that very quality In your manner." 1 am certainly of a cheerful nature." Hartley assented, somewhat embarrassed by this analysis of himself on the part of a perfect ertranger: "And I've no great crimes on my conscience," be added, laughing. His companion turned his head sharply away and gased out to sea. After a moment's silence Hartley said: "May I ask whom I have the honor of addressing T" They exchanged cards. The stranger's bors the name "Henry Penn Gllrnan." No address was on It. This somewhat singular Interview was the beginning of a shipboard acquaint ance which was actively pursued by the older man. and passively accepted by Hartley, who was not able to rid himself of a certain repugnance and distrust which the shifty eyes and hard mouth of Gllrnan Inspired in him. Tet ha felt a kind of pity for the man who aeemed shut away by himself In a bleak lonell- Tbe voyage continued uneventful nntll the fifth day out. Then heavy seas were encountered, and a storm of wind which was finally hushed aod blanketed in a dense, clinging fog. On the evening of tho sixth day. while dinner waa being served, and while the usual Jeremiad called forth fcy the weather were dampening the spirits of the less bopvful passengers, there came a crash like the collapse of a house, ac companied by a hMeous. tearing, splitting sound, ss tf some giant were making fire-wood of the ship. An awful alienee followed the roar, and then a pande monium of abouta and cries as the pas sengers, unheeding the commands of the captain and the officers, made a mad rush for the door and the upper deck. Hartley, who had sprung to his) feet with the others, got out of the way of the dangerous onward sweep of the panic stricken throng and. when the dining room was emptied, proceeded leisurely to the deck, endeavoring by the control of his muscles to keep his mind coo I. la a glanoe his eye took in the situa tion. The ship. In collls'.-n with an Ice berg and partly Impaled on lte -Jagged sides, was safe only for the few mo ments before the torn and twisted tim bers should be loosened from the Ice fangsi by the tumbling of the waves. The captain, who had taken his place on the bridge, had ordered the lifeboats lowered. Surrounding them now was a struggling, screaming, throng. . Suddenly a ptotol shot sounded clesr and sharp above the hideous uproar. Til shoot the first man who attempts to get Into a boat before the women and children." the captain roared through his megaphone. "If you must die, die Ilk men." Ha command had the effect of calm ing a certain portion of the passengers, and of restoring a semblance of order. 1 1 its'Vf jev - rv.!fvifi-tav.--fs- weT us . ii - r -r-3 . . ii I V'- ij-a--i-0 j...lie-.f..:, lSur rV: t VW: T rV O- ' iU -Wfl i n ihThwsii.wiiimiisi linn mm tanssilll Mass In St reter Is celebrated with great formality by the cardinal arch priest, but at 8 o'clock on Easter Sun Hartley, after assisting some women to find places for themselves and their chil dren, withdrew from the throng and made his way towards the Impaled bow, which every moment was loosing more snd more from the ' berg, with strange snd dreadful noises of breaking timber and rushing, pounding water. Just visible as a gray swirl, through the still deeper grayness of the fog. Knowing that tho boat carried a large steerage for an' outwardbound voyage, and. remembering the preponderance of women on board. Hartley realized that the capltaln's "If was a cold, stark fact He waa face to face at last with the most common yet the strangest of all destinies. For a moment panic swept over him. He had an Impulse to light his way to one of those overcrowded boats now about to swing Into the horrible gulf. Then his manhood reasserted Itself. He could at least die like a man. He bowed his head in silent prayer. At that moment Henry Gllrnan ap proached him, hts face white and drawn. "There's no hope." he said hoarsely. Tn Just seen the steerage. It's like hell." Hartley made no answer. "The ship will be off the berg In an other flvs minutes." he went on. "We're np against the last scene." Hartley was silent. "I've something on my mind." the man said, with a hurried, reverlstr emphasis. Tve got to tell someone be fore I dia There's no priest on board. May I tell you?" Hartley nodded, but there was a strange Indifference In his manner. He had the air of a man already passing beyond the affairs and Interests of earth. "This Is what I must tell before I go to my account: "Six years ago I was the business partner of a man named John Benedict, in the town of Tetronville, Ohio. By silent, untrace able processes, I swindled him out of bis entire fortune, a hundred thousand dollars. He died a ruined man a year later, worn out with his troubles, for which I was wholly responsible. I am. In the sight of heaven, a thief and a murderer. If I live, I will make resti tution to his daughter. If I die, the Lord have mercy on my soul!" "I can't be your Judge," Hartley aald. humbly. "Tou have Judged me. because you are an honest man. . . Gread God! Is the ship going down:" Sounds all the more terrible because of their strangeness now made further speech Impossible. The two men, draw ing their life-preservers more tightly about them, looked around for aome de tached object to which they might cling. One thought waa In the minds of both, to get clear of the horrible maelstrom which the going-down of the vessel would create. Rushing to the aide of the ship they Joined there a throng of ghastly-looking men. now silent la the faca of the last agony. A hi dar morning, ine row nimsen, mi- - I ed by two prelates, officiates At private - I mass in the chapel of the consistory in I j w . .frii.iA. a t TiT-lvntA wailing child, who had missed its mother, caught at Hartley's hand. He lifted It to his shoulder, looking down with a shudder at the seething water. Who could live in such a sea! At that moment there waa a cry from the bridge. The captain who haa been standing motionless as an image, was now leaning over the rail, straining his eyes Into the fog which, as If in a mirage of paradise, suddenly lifted In the neighborhood of the ship, reveal ing the close proximity of another huge liner. Two years later Richard Hartley landed in his native country for the first time since that outward-bound voyage which seemed more like a fan tastic dream than a real occurrence. When Henry Gilman had reached the deck of the rescuing steamer he had gone immediately below, nor did he emerge from his cabin until the vessel was docked in the English port. In the bustle of landing he had avoided Hart ley, who. divining that the man's con fession was now a source of embarrass ment to him, made no effort to speak to him again. During his two years abroad he had often wondered whether the confes sion had been an outburst of hysteria, the creation of a brain temporarily dis ordered by fright, or whether the man had really rid his conscience of an in tolerable load. Hartley resolved that on his return home he would go to Tetronville. and investigate the truth of the story. The little Ohio town seemed too small to hnrbor secrets. He called on the clergyman who had been longest In residence there, and from him learned that seven years before John Benedict, once a wealthy man. had died in pov erty, leaving a daughter, Margaret. 12 years old. who still lived in the town. By dint of skilful questioning. Hartley, wlthoue revealing what he himself knew, managed to extract the Informa tion that Benedict's misfortunes were never attributed to anything but his own Ill-luck or possible mismanage ment. He also learned that Margaret Benedict and the aunt with whom she lived were in very humble circum stances, though they were numbered among "the best people" of Tetronville. Evidently Oilman had not kept his vow. Hartley, making buslnes his pretext, stayed on In the place, and at last met the young girl, who had become a ro mantic figure to him. She was of a delicate and spiritual type of beauty, with an air of seriousness about her which Indicated a maturity of thought and feeling beyond her years. Hartley asked himself whether it would be ad visable to reveal to her a piece of knowledge which might only serve to trouble and unsettle her knowledge of which no advantage could be taken, atnee It had been obtained, as It were, under the seal of the confessional. His acquaintance with her pro gressed rapidly under the double at traction of her charm and of the un conscious part she had played In the drama of the shipwreck. He wondered how much or how little she knew of the cause of her father's troubles. His Interest In her, as the daughter of the man whom Gllrnan had wronged, gave place, after a time, to a deeper, more personal feeling The friend be came the lover. After his engagement with her was announced, he told her of the events which had first led him to seek her out. It is not easy to obtain m3 I adm on to this ceremony, ior wiuun for which prescribed costume of dress 4 -mifi-vr ' CX She listened with profound astonish ment. When he had finished she said: "But the name of my father's part ner was Charles Henderson. " "Did you ever see him?" "I remember him perfectly." "Describe him- to me." "He had a long, narrow face, blue eyes, set close together, and a rather nervous manner. He had the trick of giving a little cough In the middle of a sentence." "it's the same man," Hartley said, "Did your father ever speak In your presence of distrusting Henderson?" "Not directly. Once, shortly before his death, he said to me that he was not to blame for leaving me in poverty that he had placed his confidence where it had been abused." "There is no doubt, then, of the truth of this confession, but Oilman's or Henderson's vow of restitution will probably never be kept. It Is but an other instance of the old adage: The devil was sick, the devil a monk would be.' " After his marriage Richard Hartley took his wife to New York. Although the Incident of the shipwreck was now very little in his thoughts, he would find himself at times scanning the hur rying throng on Broadway for the face of the man whom he had last seen un der such dramatic circumstances. After the lapse of five years events occurred which made the minds of both husband and wife turn towards Henry Gilman. Through the collapse of a corporation. Hartley, a comparatively rich man lost his entire fortune. Margaret, who had known poverty during the impressionable years of her girlhood, .faced cheerfully the necessity of beginning life anew, but her hus band was for a time cast down and embittered. His thoughts began to dwell on Gilman and Gilman's debt to his wife. He lived over again In Ima gination the scene of the shipwreck. He heard the strange theatening noises, he saw the helpless passengers running about like rats In a cage and against this background of terror he saw a face white with the terror of conscience. He longed to employ means to track Gilman, but Margaret's influence pre vented him. She seemed content to wait for whatever tardy Judgment of her cause time held in store. Hartley acknowledged at last that she was right, and giving up the thought of this possible short cut to fortune he devoted his energies to making a new path for himself. They moved to a Southern town, where he obtained a business position of minor importance. After a year whose hardships brought to the surface again the memory of Gilman, Hartley went on a commercial trip to a city some ninety miles distant, taking Margaret with him for a change of scene and ar. . Walking on a side street near the courthouse, a day or two after their arrival, they saw just ahead of them a man, the outlines of whose figure seemed to Hartley vaguely familiar. He was searching his memory for some enlightening recollection, when the man. overtaking another, detained him In conversation. As he did so, his own full face was revealed. Hartley grasped his wife's arm: "It's Gilman!" They stopped short in their walk. The color left Margaret's face. "Yes It's my father's partner." she said. for the men, and a mantilla covering i mo i" " e dress for Eggs also play an Important part in Gilman for it was he shook hands with the man he had accosted, and said: "Gray, you're just the man I want I was on my way to your office. My daugh ter is to be married this afternoon." "Did you have a daughter?" Hartley whispered. "Yes but she lived with her mother. You remember I told you he was sepa rated from his wife." "Yes hush!" From his pocket he drew a card and hastily wrote: "The last five minutes." Just as Gilman was about to follow his companion Into a doorway lined with lawyers' signs. Hartley laid a detaining hand upon his shoulder and silently held the card before his eyes. Gilman looked at It, turned it over and read the own er's name; then a ghastly grayness over spread his face. "You are Charles Henderson." Hartley said In a low tone. "This is my wife. She is the daughter of the man you wronged: it was to her that you prom ised restitution, should you be saved from imminent death. That vow has evi dently escaped your mind!" Gilman made an imploring gesture, and looked furtively over Ills shoulder at the lawyer .who was slowly ascending the stairs. "For God's sake!" he whispered hoarse ly, "don't disgrace me now! My daugh ter is about to be married to a man of one of the oldest families here. He would " , Hartley interrupted him: "Better he shoul know, than marry the daughter of a" He broke off, and added after a moment's reflection: "Will you keep your solemn vow late as it is? Will you make restitution?" Lines of acute suffering deepened in Gilman's face. "For heaven's sake," he cried, "have mercy! When I landed in England I meant to do everything I had vowed to do, but I was met by the news that my wife, from whom I was separated, had died in Paris, where my little daugh ter, whom I had not seen for six years, was awaiting me. I found a lovely, lonely child of 12. and my ambition at once awoke again, for her sake. Though I often thought of my vow, though my conscience reproached me, I could not bring myself to give up what I now re garded as her fortune. Now she is to marry the man she loves." Margaret's eyes softened, and she ap peared about to speak, but Hartley, re straining her, continued, in an unrelent ing tone: "What of another child. Just the age that your daughter was when deprived of a father, whom you had robbed of wealth, and perhaps of life! What of her bereavement, of her poverty? What of your vow?" Gilman bowed his head. "It Is the justice of heaven," he said wearily. "I was just now going up these stairs to dictate a deed insuring my daughter her dowry. But now" "Wait!" exclaimed Hartley. "How large has the fortune grown from the hundred thousand" which you took?" "I have now about J360.000, which I meant to give my daughter." "Um-tn! Eighty thousand for Interest. Hartley mused. "What is that!" exclaimed Gilman. "Dictate to your lawyer two deeds of gift each for JISO.OOO one in favor of your aaugnier, tne oiner in xne duiw of my wile i . What I said was that . the Italian Kaster, It beins customarv I for peasants to brinp eggs to their masters on the eve of tho ceremony. we will accept the odd eighty thousand in lieu of interest!" Gilman hesitated, then, with an odd look of mingled renunciation and relief, he said: . "Come up. and you shall see me sign them." So that afternoon, when Miss Gilman became Mrs. Winthrop, her "dot" was only half as large as It might have been, but the young couple were none the wiser. But when Margaret Hartley, going up to the bride, put her arms about her and kissed her. and the father, who had given her in marriage turned upon Mrs. Hart ley a look whichy a soul might wear on entering paradise a look of gratitude so exalted that it stamped his features with a nobility never before seen there Rich ard HarMey was well content. No Mail for Cows. St. Paul Pioneer Press. A rural resident from one of th neighboring townships -who came Into the city the other day related an anec dote of his home village, where the benefits of rural free delivery have not yet been extended, and the country postoffice is still the center of activity about the time the mall comes in. One day, the story teller relates, he was sitting behind the old-fashioned stove, when he happened to notice a burly farmer, who stepped to the de livery window, and the following con versation ejisued: , "Have you got any letter for Mike Howe?" he inquired. The Postmaster looked him over. "For whom?" he snapped. "For Mike Howe." replied the rustic. The Postmaster spat in a cynical manner. "Don't quite understand you," he re turned peevishly. ' "Don't understand!" bellowed the rural resident. "Can't ye understand plain English? I asked if you had any mall for Mike Howe." "No, I haven't," snarled the Postmas ter. "Neither have I any mail for any body else's cow!" Manufacturing Sentiment. National Magazine. Long lists of signed petitions are now looked upon as rather unreliable evi dence, since no sooner has one side sent in a petition carrying signatures of "novereign voters" than the oppositio comes back with a list equally as for midable. It is said in some Instances that the bame people have signed oppos ing papers, showing that they have not given very close attention to the prayer of the petition. In fact, it is claimed that there are organizations whoae only business is to "manufacture" public sen timent. ' Father of Sixteen Children. Chicago dispatch to Philadelphia Recorl Should the sovereign state of Illinois decide to pay bounty for large families and call the roll of its citizens, Michael Fox, of 7810 Chauncey avenue, will be able to answer "present." Mr. Fox. who is a switchman on the Illinois Central Railroad, never received any congrat ulations from Theodore Roosevelt, al though deserving of them. Of the 814 115 children in Chicago, Mr. Fox is father of 16. and they are all strong and vigorous. -. 3