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out to the relatives of the dying man that his panacea has only not proved infallible because it was tried too late. A veiled woman, the wife of the dying man, sits weeping at the side of her husband's pillow. She frequently holds to his face a moistened piece of mud torn from the wall (this wetted mud is supposed to have a very reviving influence, and is used by Persians as we use smelling-salts). Tea is handed round in small cups; the crowd in the room becomes greater; every win dow is shut; and as the outside temperature is ninety degrees, some idea of the heat within can be formed. The crowd is not here from mere curiosity. A man is sick; then where should his friends be, they say, if not by his bedside? The samovars (Russian tea-urns) steam and bubble; the room is filled with cloudstof tobacco-smoke and the steam from the urns. And now, just as two hundred years ago was done in England, a fowl is killed and placed warm and bleeding on the patient's feet. All is of no avail, however. The man has breathed his last. The wife yields her place by the bedside. Moistened cotton-wool is placed in the mouth of the dead, in the orifices of the nostrils, and in the ears. A moollah begins to read aloud the prescribed portion of the Korân, commencing "O man, I swear by the instructive Korân that thou art one of the messengers of God sent to show the right way," etc. This portion of the Mussulman's sacred book was called | by Mahommed himself “the heart of the Korân." And now all present witness aloud that the dead man was a good and pious Mahommedan. The limbs are composed, and a cup of water is placed at the head of the corpse. No sooner is this done than a moollah ascends to the flat roof of the house and begins to read in a shrill monotone certain verses from the holy book. This announces to the neighbors that the man is veritably dead; and at the same moment his relations shriek and wail "Woe, woe! he is dead; he has passed away.' These are the expressions of a real grief. But presently the professional mourners arrive and rend the air with their shrill screaming; which is like the "keening" of the Irish.

The house is soon filled with friends and neighbors, who add their cries to the screams of the mourners. The women of the family hasten to array themselves in "bitter" (i.e. sombre) garments not in actual black, but in sad colors: neither they nor the men wash or dress their hair

until the funeral and the first days of mourning are over. The male relatives do not literally rend their garments, but give them the right appearance by opening certain seams of their coats and cloaks with a pen-knife; and instead of casting dust upon their heads they dab mud on their hats. And now come the "washers of the dead." To each parish are attached a family of these people, who get a despised livelihood by performing the last offices for the dead. The corpse having been washed at an adjoining stream, the hands are placed across the chest, and it is wrapped in the shroud of cotton cloth that the deceased has probably had by him, as a sort of memento mori, for years. Camphor (real vegetable camphor) is placed beneath the shroud, and the body is laid in a rough coffin made of thin planks and brought back to the house. The coffin in Persia is of a thin and unsubstantial kind, and the burial always takes place within twenty-four hours of decease.

Usually in the cool of the morning or afternoon the funeral is performed. If the deceased is a poor man, the coffin is laid in a rough wooden covered bier or tabūt. In the case of the very poor, or in times of epidemics, the coffin is often dispensed with, and the dead are interred in their shrouds. These, formed often of many yards of cotton cloth, are swathed tightly round them, as was done in ancient Egypt. Often a much larger tabūt is used; and then the wealth or rank of the deceased is shown by the dark Cashmere shawls which are hired for the purpose of wrapping over the woodwork and canopy that covers the imarah, or. portable shrine on which the coffin is borne: in this case the coffin is also covered with shawls. Shawls, which are constantly bought and sold in Persia, are at once unsalable if they smell of camphor; for it is inferred that they have been used for covering the dead. To preserve them from moth, shawls in the East are always kept in boxes of cypress-wood. The friends and relatives, and even passers-by, willingly take their places as bearers of the dead; for it is considered one of the highest forms of charity to assist in the work of bearing a Mussulman to his last home. The graveyard is reached a bare spot outside the town, the home of the jackal and hyæna. There are no waving cypresses here, as in Turkey. A few small arched shrines generally in ruins — mark where some holy man has been interred.

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Grotesque stone lions of life size mark the doubtless tend to spread plague and cholgraves of those who were warriors; while era. But coffins often form ordinary loads little square niches a yard high contain in a general caravan; they are not obhighly colored pictures of unwedded jected to, and are noted in the way-bill youths, or of those slain in war. As a with other loads.

From The Pall Mall Gazette.

rule, however, small flat stones record the names of the dead, a few texts from the Korân marking the piety of their relations; but often the little mounds have merely a row of flints that loving hands have placed there, or a rough bit of rock A VISIT TO THE AMAZONS OF DAHOMEY. or a tile at head and foot. The nearest THE Germans, to whom Africa as a relatives lay the body in the shallow grave, field of colonization is a mine of inexhausta priest says a prayer, the shroud is loos-ible novelty, have just rediscovered the ened that the dead man may be enabled amazons of Dahomey. These famous to arise at the resurrection without warriors, of whom so little has been heard trouble, and the coffin-lid is replaced. for so many years, have been inspected Then another prayer is read. The "Fa- by Dr. Zöller, who is acting as special tihat," or first chapter of the Korân, is correspondent of the Kölnische Zeitung, recited by all — it is merely a short prayer and gives an account of his reception at the grave is closed, a little water is the court of the Portuguese half-breed sprinkled on it, and all is over. If the Juliano de Sonza, who in his semi-royal family of the deceased can afford it, a tiny state at Whydah rejoices in the possestent is pitched, and a priest remains to sion of a fully equipped battalion of women pray and to read the Korân over the grave who fight. Alas! however, for our prefor many days. conceived notions, the amazons of De Sonza have more resemblance to a corps de ballet than to a corps d'armée, and the deepest impression which they left on the mind of their visitors was that they would make the fortune of any enterprising impresario who would introduce them to European audiences. Of Juliano de Sonza himself, who has had his son educated in an English boarding school, and married by a French priest, Dr. Zöller speaks in high terms. He says: "The tall, broadchested man, with a dark yellow, almost brown, complexion, received us with the amiable politeness of a pompous aristocrat. He wore a long, shirt-like cotton garment reaching down to his feet, high European boots, an embroidered smoking. cap, and although he is a fetish-worshipper — a big black metal cross on his chest." After apologizing for the remarkable costume which he had been obliged to don because of indisposition, Juliano gave the sign for the beginning of the festivities. The stage for these was the open space in front of Juliano's house, a rather rickety building of two stories in the middle of the village, which was filled with the upper ten of Whydah, a multitude of black spectators, all of whom pretend to be of European descent. But woe to him who without being a "white man" dares to wear European boots, or allow himself to be carried in a hammock, the European means of conveyance. Not even his Majesty the king would ever dream of committing so unpardonable a breach of

The whole of the attendants of the funeral are entertained at dinner at the house of the deceased. The mourning is continued for a short period - a few days or a month, according to the wealth of the family. Then another lavish exercise of hospitality, and a dole to the poor, takes place; and this is the sign that the days of mourning are over. Sombre garments are cast aside; the family go to the public bath; ce more they dye their hair with hinna, also the soles of their feet and the palms of their hands, their nails and fingertips. The women signalize the end of their mourning by a visit to the cemetery, taking with them sweetmeats and a peculjar kind of bread; they eat at the grave side a small quantity of these, and what remains is given to the poor. A widow will often vow a monthly or yearly dole at her husband's grave; and the vow is always piously carried out.

Often among the rich or religious the body is merely placed in some mosque or shrine, as amanat - that is to say, on deposit. After some months, or weeks, or years, it is wrapped in thin felt and despatched with hundreds of others, by mule caravan, to holy Meshed, to be buried near Imam Riza; or to sacred Kerbela, to lie beside the blessed Houssein. In travelling in Persia one frequently meets these caravans. Two or even four coffins are strapped on each mule. It is needless to add that they are most objectionable upon the road and in the caravanserais, and

brimless yokey cap, ornamented with black pictures of animals, such as lizards, birds, and others. The feet are bare; short knickerbockers of green, red, or yellow material come down nearly to the knees, and a bright-colored tunic of striped silk or velvet, which leaves only the neck and the arms free, covers the upper part of the body, which is supported by corsets of native manufacture. A broad belt of many colors heightens the slim appearance of the female warrior. At the left side of the belt a short sword is fastened, and a small cartridge pocket in front. A scarf of white or light green silk is worn like a Scotch plaid. The armament consists of swords, battle-axes, and guns, which latter are put aside during the dance. Quite apart from the effect of combined dancing and singing, the performances, which went on for several hours uninterruptedly before our eyes, were quite in the style of our corps de ballet, with the only difference that perhaps no other corps de ballet would dance with equal exactitude. First came a tall and somewhat elderly woman. She was the captain, and as she entered the son of the chacha whispered to me, 'Just look how well my mother dances.' Then followed, with battle-axes uplifted, the younger officers, and in their rear the still younger troops, now dashing towards us in their sham fight, now wheeling round, dispers

African etiquette. When it was dusk the army of amazons made their entrance into the yard fantastically attired, and looking more fantastical still by the glare of the torches which were borne before them. This is how Dr. Zöller describes the scene: "Shortly before their dance commenced the chacha distributed German beer and Bahia rum among the audience, which consisted of some five hundred spectators, many of whom were accompanied by their tame sheep, which follow their masters like dogs. Rum is the ordinary beverage offered to visitors in Dahomey. The amazons of Abome, of whom there are at the most some six thousand, are nominally the wives of the king, and as such form a body-guard which is said to be superior to the male soldiers in courage, discipline, and loyalty. But although these amazons accompany the king on all his wars, I think they are more for show than for service. Among all the savage and semisavage tribes, singing and dancing are considered as essential as drilling and drumming among ourselves. It is natural that the amazons, having from their earliest childhood been educated as warriors, dancers, and singers, should be as superior to male soldiers in these accomplishments as our Guards are to the Reserves. The amazons of the chacha, all of whom have served in the army of Abome, are women between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, and as the chaing, and again uniting. And all this with cha does not go to war, they are naturally only kept for show. They have no separate barracks, but live, like the thirty male soldiers, in different quarters of the town, whence they are called together whenever they are wanted. At their first entrance, when, marching up in a long procession, they saluted their lord and master, I was astonished at the military exactitude of their movements. Imagine sixty young women, strong and slender, who, without losing anything of their womanliness, present a decidedly warlike appearance. Among Europeans this combination of the woman and the warrior could not be imagined; here it is explained by the peculiar formation of the negro skeleton. The skeletons of negro women (in striking contrast to that of the mulattoes) are strikingly like the skeletons of male negroes. The assertion is untrue that the female warriors of Dahomey have their breasts cut off, like the mythological amazons of the ancient Greeks. Their picturesque uniform might furnish our masters of the ballet with fresh ideas. The fresh young faces look roguishly from under the white,

rhythmical movements, half warlike, half coquettish, but never clumsy, the elegant play of the bare, round arms recalling to the mind the limbs of ancient classical statues. All dances which I have seen performed among savage and demi-savage peoples have been grotesque, and to a certain degree voluptuous. Here for the first time a performance was given which would have held its own before a serious critique and æsthete." Contemplating this remarkable feat, and listening to the strange rhythm of the songs of the amazons, who, even after a performance of several hours, showed no sign of fatigue, the delighted Germans spent the evening, and next morning were invited to a similar dance performed by twelve young la dies of the age of sixteen and seventeen, all, all, all of whom the chacha introduced as his wives. Their performance, however, was inferior to that witnessed the night before. The three days' festivities, all more or less of the same kind, were concluded by the chacha presenting a bull to Dr. Zöller.

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For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of Remittances shage. be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Co.

Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents.

IN APRIL.

LIGHT falls the rain On link and laine,* After the burning day, And the bright scene, Blue, gold, and green, Is blotted out in gray.

Not so will part The glowing heart With sunny hours gone by; On cliff and hill There lingers still

A light that cannot die.

Like a gold crown, Gorse decks the Down, All sapphire lies the sea; And incense sweet Springs as our feet Tread light the thymy lea.

Fade vision bright!
Fall rain, fall night!
Forget, gray world, thy green!
For us, nor thee,
Can all days be

As though this had not been! Spectator. F. W. B. "Link" and "laine" are names common among the Sussex Downs, the former meaning a grassy ridge, the latter ploughland lying at the foot of the Downs.

THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS.
AT evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.

Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.

There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter's camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.

These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.

I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.

So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Story-books.
R. L. STEVENSON.
A Child's Garden of Verses.

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