“Daughters of Jerusalem, Weep Not for Me”
And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple from him, and put his own clothes on him, and led him out to crucify him.—And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. For, behold, the days are coming, in the which they shall say, ... to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us. For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?—St. Mark xv: 20; St. Luke xxiii: 27-31.
NOTE BY THE ARTIST
Needless to say, the route followed by the actual “Via Dolorosa” is lost beyond recovery, its very direction being entirely dependent upon that of Calvary, the site of which has for long been a matter of controversy. In any case the veritable Path of Sorrow lies concealed beneath a mass of débris, the ruins of the ancient city upon which modern Jerusalem is built. The street in the painting does not form part of the traditional route; it is the “Street of the Shoemakers,” a coincidence which recalls the mediæval legend of “The Wandering Jew,” who, it may be remembered, was a follower of this craft.
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“The True Hero.” A number of boys were playing after school one day. The playground was on the bank of a river. One of the biggest boys was named Tom Price. He was the strongest boy in the school. He loved to get up quarrels among the boys to show how easily he could whip any of them. But there was one boy in the school who never would fight. His name was Joe Wilson. He was not so big or so strong as Tom Price. But it was not this which made him unwilling to fight. He was trying to be a Christian. He knew it was wrong to fight, and so he always refused to do it.
One day Tom Price agreed with some of the other boys to try and force a fight on Joe Wilson. So while they were playing after school, Tom knocked Joe’s cap off his head, and it fell into the river.
“Tom threw your cap over on purpose, Joe,” said one of the boys; “fight him for it.”
“Yes, give it to him, Wilson,” said the other boys, “we’ll see that you have fair play.”
Price squared off and stood in a fighting position. “I won’t fight,” said Wilson. “I’m sorry you threw the cap over, Price; for it was all but new, and I don’t see any fun in such mischief. But, I’m not going to fight about it.”