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Show "Adoration of the Magi" looks (Iowa upon the sleeping form below. The other decorations are all in the same style. The central chapel, which faces the entrance, has for its altar piece our Lord's resurrection, while the altar itself is adorned with small bass-reliefs representing the -details of his burial. The third chapel is ilecorated with a lurge painting of th. crucifixion. Along the cornices of the arches overhead are reliefs of Scriptural scenes in white plaster plas-ter upon a dark red ground. Tall funeral fu-neral urns of black lava, set upon pedestals pedes-tals of green Siberian malachite, stand In the nooks between the side arches, and from the four niches of the great central space inclosing the monument four marble statues keep silent watch over the cenotaph David with his harp, Solomon with his scepter, Isaiah with his scroll, and Daniel with his book of prophecy. "It's a fine show, ain't It, Jack?"' says one thin, poorly dressed man to another. "Mast ha' cost a sight o' money, eh? "Aye, it's cost a sight o' money, sure enough," growls his comrade; "but who pays for it all?" "Who pays for it?" echoes number one, who does not appear ap-pear to be a gentleman of very quick apprehension. "Why, the queen, I s'pose." "And who pays the queen then?" asks number two with significant sig-nificant emphasis. To this query which probably strikes him as savoring vaguely of high treason his companion replies only by glancing nervously over I stone, with gothic windows on either side of. it, supported by pillars of mottled granite so exactly like brawn or "head cheese" that I am almost tempted to pull out my knife and help myself to a slice of them we penetrate into a gloomy maze of yews, firs and other somber evergreens, looking doubly dreary beneath be-neath the cheerless coldness of the gray, sullen sky. In the midst of this cheerful cheer-ful place a black, lifeless pool of slimy water, with one white swan floating npon it, like a ghost hovering over the river of death, encircles a small islet overshadowed by the dark boughs of ghostly pines, which rustle as if whispering whis-pering to each other some awful secret that they dure not utter aloud. On such an island as this, far up a grim African river alive with monstrous crocodiles, I saw the skeletons of the Djennor chiefs nioldering amid the fragments frag-ments of the weapons which they had used in life. It would certainly be no easy matter to find a fitter site for any mausoleum, but the mausoleum itself is not there it lies further on. Away to the left we see rising above the trees the blue dome and round, many pillared outline out-line of the smaller cenotaph erected in memory of the Duchess of Kent, Queen Victoria's mother, and on the right a sharp curve of the path suddenly brings us out in front of the larger one dedicated dedicat-ed to the late Prince Consort, which forms the great "sight" of the day. Like most places, however, which "every one ought to see," it offers little stood at the gate as ticket taker took good care that no one should puss unlicensed. unli-censed. As usual in such cases, the throngs that crowded to see the show were far j better worth looking at than the show itself. Three or four tall young Life Guardsmen in smart new scnrlet jackets, jack-ets, curling their trim mustaches and flourishing their dandified canes as they glanced over the crowd with an air of grand, indulgent superiority, to the boundless admiration of a bevy of red cheeked nurse girls and kitchen maids who ogled them from a distance; a scarred and sunburned color sergeant of the line (whose bronze "Kandahar medal" showed that he had smelled powder pow-der on fields of battle very different from a sham fight or a review), eying the "holiday "hol-iday soldiers" with grim contempt as they went swaggering paft him; half a dozen smooth faced Eton lads in tall hats, round jackets, and broad, white "turn down" collars, laughing and talking as only schoolboys can, and evidently enjoying en-joying themselves to the full in spite of the gloomy weather; a brace of sallow, impudent looking London shop boys, covered with a smallpox of cheap jewelry, jew-elry, casting annihilating glances at the passing girls, and poisoning the air with bad cigars as a convincing proof that they have become "men;" half a dozen London housemaids d(wn here for the day chattering and giggling in a way to recall forcibly the Scriptural comparison com-parison of the laughter of fools to "the crackling of thorns under a pot;" a IN MEMORY OF ALBERT. "MAUSOLEUM DAY" DESCRIBED BY DAVID KER. Victoria Allow, the Monument to th. Prince Consort to Be Opened Only One. Year, and It I. a Great Privilege to He Present. Seclal Conmpondence.l London, Dec. 13. "Mausoleum Day", at Windsor comes during this month, forming a curious study for any one who happens to have never seen it before, be-fore, and never wishes to see it again. The whole affair is an interesting example exam-ple of the way in which a thing of little or no value in itself assumes a priceless Importance the moment it is supposed to be rare and difficult to obtain. If one could only contrive to persuade people in general that being ducked in a horse-pond horse-pond was a unique privilege, granted unly to a select few, I have not the least doubt that every horsepond in the country coun-try would be alive with floundering victims forthwith. Had the mausoleum of the late prince consort been daily opened for public inspection people would have got tired of it long ago, but as the queen has been graciously pleased to open it only one day in the whole year the anniversary of her husband's death visitors flock in annually from all parts of the neighborhood by hundreds hun-dreds and even by thousands in spite of the difficulty of procuring tickets of admission. ad-mission. I was present one year. . As a mutter of course, on a pnblio holiday the weather was as bad as it could be. A damp mist, a drizzling rain ami a sky as dismal as a comic paper pa-per gave quite a national character to the whole scene. Policemen and stage conductors looked sulky and quarrelsome, quarrel-some, misanthropical hackmen seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in scattering the liquid mud as widely and vigorously as possible, and foot passengers eyed one his shoulder at a tall policeman in the background, as if doubtful whether he mny not be arrested on the spot for having hav-ing assisted at this impromptu "auditing" "audit-ing" of her majesty's accounts, "Well, I'll tell yer who pays her, Tom, my boy," pursue the last speaker, who is evidently evident-ly bent upon saying his say out, whether he is listened to or not. "We pay her we pay for all. Has she any money of her own? Not she. Well, then, where does she get it all? Why, from the country and that means you and me, Tom, and a whole lot more fools like ourselves. I tell ye, mate, there's thousands thou-sands of pounds been chucked away npon this old falderal of a tomb; and it ain't a proper tomb neither, for he ain't buried in it after all it's only a kind o' make b'lieve. when all's said and done. And I'll tell yer sometl in' more, Tom, my boy. If all the monsy that's been sunk in this old giracrack had been spent in keepin' folks' bodies and souls together, all them there strikes as we've been having hav-ing wouldn't never have been at all!" I To a political economist, with his neat, scientific theories about "circulation of capital" and what not, all this would doubtless sound extravagant enough; but the bitter energy of this man's tone j and manner shows that he fully believes every word he says, and his speech, ! pointed by the recent course of events at ' home and abroad, has a grim and ominous omi-nous significance. In fact, he is merely sta ting in other words the same substantial substan-tial truth which I heard years ago from the lips of a great nihilist chief in central cen-tral Russia as we stood watching a passing pass-ing group of haggard, poverty Btricken peasants in tattered sheepskin frocks. "These," said he, pointing to the slouching, slouch-ing, spiritless figures, "are the men who carry the whole weight of the empire on their shoulders, and the moment they find that out, down comes the whole thing in one crash." David Keb. that is worth seeing after all. Looked at from the outside it is merely a small, square building of white stone, surmounted sur-mounted by an octagon tower with eight windows. Three of the four sides are rounded into side chapels, and on the fourth is the entrance overarched by a sky blue ceiling, checkered with golden stars, and guarded by two bronze angels, one bearing a trumpet and the other a sword. Between these two silent sentinels a flight of stone steps leads up into the interior of the building, which is already crowded, like the box office of a theatre, despite the exertions of three or four stalwart policemen, who keep shouting, "Move on! move on!" till they are quite hoarse. But the inside of the mausoleum is an undeniable improvement upon the outside, out-side, if one had but time or space to look at it. The tesselated pavement of black and white marble, the bright blue ceilings ceil-ings and sculptured cornices, the rich stained glass of the side chapels, the massive pillars and arches of polished marble, and the quaint frescoes that remind re-mind me at once of the ancient Slavonian churches of southern Russia, are all decidedly de-cidedly picturesque, and look doubly so beneath the soft, subdued light that falls upon them from above through the tall Got hic windows of the octagon cupola. Right in the midst of the building, on a massive slab of white marble adorned with bronze figures of kneeling angels at the four corners and piled high on every side with wreaths of natural and artificial flowers, lies outstretched the reenmbent effigy of "Albert the Good" just beneath the center of the dome. Within a few paces of it, in the first of the three side chapels, a sculptured couch and stone pillow bear up the slumbering figure of the best and kindliest kindli-est of English royalties, gentle Princess Alice, whose sweet face looks as good and pure in death as it did in life. All around her on painted scrolls are simple texts from the grand old Lutheran Bible of Germany, and from th. wall th hale, brisk, portly old lady (evidently the wife of some well to do Berkshire farmer), whose ruddy, cheery face, seen in the depths of a huge old fashioned bonnet, looked like a fire lighted in a cave. She was surrounded by a bevy of clamorous children, and seemed quite as eager and talkative as any child of them all. Then followed three or four Windsor Wind-sor aldermen, enjoying themselves in a prim, respectable, municipal manner, as if conscious that they were far too great men to manifest any vulgar emotion like the common unofficial herd around them. After these came a miscellaneous crowd, i among whom we observed (aa the fashionable fash-ionable reporters say) two rustic lovers, ; with their hearts full of passion and I their mouths full of pie, shedding flakes ' of piecrust like rose leaves around them n.j they walked. ' I i These and similar gronps fill up the whole extent of the broad, flat, sloppy j , carriage road leading to Frogmore pal-1 ace, which has certainly nothing very palatial about it. It is simply a small one storied country villa of the ordinary ordi-nary type, coated with some diabolical ' kind of paint which gives to it the sickly, sick-ly, bilious complexion of a raw potato, its whole appearance being in such complete com-plete and gloomy harmony with the chill, rfhwholesome dampness around it that a stranger might well mistake it for a temple erected to the god of rheumatism. rheuma-tism. On a bright summer day there might possibly be some beauty in the low, ivy clad piazza beside its front entrance, en-trance, whither the queen is fond of coming over from Windsor castle for her solitary breakfast; but beneath the sunless skies and damp creeping mists of the late autumn or early winter the aspect of the whole building is dismal to the last degree. However, we have little lit-tle time to observe it, for now a Budden turn of the road brings us to the entrance en-trance of the private park ia which stands the mausoleum. , Through a deep archway of hewed another in passing with an aggrieved and vindictive air, as if each considered the other in some way to blame for the universal discomfort. By the time we reached Windsor the gloom overhead had deepened till the whole sky was as obscure as an explanatory explana-tory note. But nothing that the proverbial pro-verbial English weather could do availed to damp the ardor of these pilgrims to the Mecca of England, some of whom (us I subsequently learned), after tramping tramp-ing all the way to the mausoleum and buck through the thick, yellow, treachy mud for which Windsor is so justiy . famous, actually went up to the castle; and attended the afternoon . service t Bt. George's chapel, solely in order to consecrate their prayers with the beatifio vision of two fat elderly gentlemen with yellow faces, around whose bald heads clings the halo of superstitions reverence rever-ence with which conservative John Bull" ptill contrives to regard the Prince of Wales nnd tho Duke of Edinburgh. Passing across the endless procession of skeleton trees formiug the "Long Walk" the leafless, dripping boughs of which, half seen through cold white mint, added to the dreariness of this gloomy scene I came np to the entrance of Frogmore park. Tho sacred gates, firdinarily closed against all profane per-. per-. pons not belonging to the royal house hold, were now thrown wide open, and through them eddied a motley crowd. But even in this madness there was a method, for the stalwart policeman wh |