File:Outing (1885) (14765984962).jpg

Identifier: outing55newy (find matches)
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: (New York : Outing Pub. Co.)
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries

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gs out on the marbleterrace. We filled twobig dining rooms with ourKurfiirsters, and a hun-grier crowd never satdown to a better meal. Ifthere was one article morenoble than another in thatluncheon it was the Alge- rian mandarin or tangerine or what-ever they call it—the sweetest, freshestfruit that grows; but, as I have said, Ido not propose to linger on these details.Neither shall I dwell on the governorspalace which we visited, though it isset in a fair garden; nor on the museum,with the exception of just one thing.That one item is, I believe, unique inthe worlds list of curiosities. It is aplaster cast of the martyr Geronimo inthe agony of death. The Algerines putGeronimo alive into a soft mass of con-crete which presently hardened into ablock, and was built into a fort. Thiswas in 1569 and about forty years latera Spanish writer described the event andtold exactly how that particular blockcould be located. The fort stood for nearly three hun-dred years. Then in 1853 it was torn
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IN WHATEVER DIRECTION YOU LOOKED WAS A PICTURE. 176 THE OUTING MAGAZINE down, the block was identified andbroken open, and an almost perfect moldof the dead martyr was found within.They filled the mold with plaster, andthe result—a wonderful cast—lies therein the museum to-day, face down as hedied, hands and feet bound and strain-ing, head twisted to one side in the su-preme torture of that terrible martyr-dom. It is a grewsome, fascinatingthing, and you go back to look at itmore than once, and you slip out betweentimes for a breath of fresh air. Remembering the story and lookingat that straining figure, you realize alittle of the need he must have known,and your lungs contract and you smotherand hurry out to the sky and sun andGod-given oxygen of life. He could nothave lived long, but every second of con-sciousness must have been an eternityof horror, for there is no such thing astime except as to mode of measurement,and a measurement such as that wouldcompass ages unthinkable. I

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