CHAPTER XXI.
The Sacred Order of Ancient Timers and Holy Retrogressionists, and Their Lugubrious Ritual.
Illustration: DECORATIVE LETTER ‘T’.
THE barkers were all true and immovable believers in the musty and mouldy old doctrine that whatsoever was in the beginning ought to be now and forever, world without end, amen. So they still held themselves together as the Society for the Protection of the Almighty, as they had found by past sad experience that he could not be trusted to take care of himself.
And, oh! It was a solemn and sad society, that did nothing but weep and mourn for the “Good Old Days” of the past, when dogs were all kept with their noses heavenward (downward) by the wholesome administration of Blue Thunderbolts. And they formed themselves into a solemn Order, which they called the “Sacred Order of Ancient Timers and Holy Retrogressionists.” And they had a sacred ritual of mourning and a service of weeping, and ordinary, extraordinary and special days of moaning, lamentation and bewailment, and prayer for the resurrection of the dead past.
They met weekly in a damp and dead smelling catacomb, at the solemn hour of midnight, and by the darkling light of smoky torches, stuck in the eyeholes of skulls. In the center of the meeting place was a huge crape-covered, black lachrymatory or weeping pot, around which they gathered to moan, and into which they shed their tears.
To the north of the lachrymatory was stationed the Grand Lugubrious Lachrymator, supported by the Worthy RightHand and the Worthy Left Hand Weepers; to the south was the Vice Grand Lugubrious Lachrymator, supported by the Worthy Eyerag Wringer, and his assistant, the Assistant Worthy Eyerag Wringer. To the east was the Past and Bygone Lugubrious Lachrymator, and opposite him was the Worthy Grand Exalted Moaner, who read the prayers.
And at the tap of a funeral bell, the Grand Lugubrious Lachrymator read from the Solemn Ritual these words:
“Oh mourning brethren of the Eternal Tear Drop: It hath been appointed unto us to bewail the good old days of Prostrate Piety and Blue Thunderbolts; when the glory of Simple Faith was as the sun in mid-heaven; when Reason—wicked Faith-upsetting Reason—was in chains; when our ever glorious Almighty Vengeance and beloved Hell reigned supreme, and blaspheming questioners were stricken dead; when dogs everywhere piously and in the fear of God, gave up their blood to their lawful and divinely appointed suckers, the fleas.
“These times are temporarily past; but our holy traditions, and the promises made by our Almighty Vengeance—who for some great, unfathomably wise and mysterious purpose, has suffered himself to be cast into the shade for a time—tell us that the ancient glory shall be re-established, the temporarily overthrown throne of our darksome God shall be again set up, and to him again shall the nose of every dog be held down in the dirt; the blasphemers and up-looking dogs shall perish out of the land, the Blue Thunderbolts shall be refurbished and shine with a latter-day glory, that shall be to the former glory as the midday sun is to the midnight star. How saith the Vice Grand Lugubrious Lachrymator?”
And the Vice Grand Lugubrious Lachrymator fromhisbook of the Ritual read:
“Yea, Verily; and let all Ancient Timers and Holy Retrogressionists of the pure and genuine musty and mouldy odor, say Amen.”
At which all the assembly lifted up their noses and groaned “Amen.”
Then said the Grand Lugubrious Lachrymator: “The Worthy Grand Exalted Moaner will now put up the Solemn Wail. Let all bow the head.”
And all the Order bowed their heads while the Worthy Grand Exalted Moaner, fromhisbook of the Ritual, recited:
“Oh, Almighty Vengeance, Fiction Eternal: Why art thou hidden from us? Why have we lost thee? Why hast thou suffered the clouds of unbelief to encompass thee? Why hast thou suffered the extinguisher of raillery to snuff thee out, so to speak? Oh, grief be unto us that adversity hath overtaken thee, and the blasphemer and the pesky sinful dog are on top! Oh, we did prosper by thee. Thou wast our daily bread. We had invested in thee. When thou wast the All-Powerful Terror, then were we in power; then were we held in awe and reverence, and many basketfuls of meat and a lazy life were ours. But, oh, Ichabod, the glory is departed and our house is left unto us desolate. Mirth and gladness are fled away from us; our meat is diminished, and our comfortable lazy life is turned into a daily hustle, and none but fools and simpletons esteem us reverend.
“Oh glorious Past! Oh departed Power, Greatness and Glory, come again from the dead to us. Oh, time of blessed dog ignorance, come, oh, come back again. Oh, shadow on the dial of time, turn back; oh, wheel of progress, revolve the hindward way. Oh, Almighty Fiction, if thou canst, re-establish thyself; set up thy discarded Hell again, and cause it to be respected. Blight and blast Thought, Reason, Progress and all other modern and wicked things, and cause thyself and us once more to prosper. Meanwhile we wait and weep and wail, and wail and weep and wait for thee, Amen.”
The Solemn Wail having been recited, all the Order, as the last act of the service, gathered around the lachrymatory, and shed therein all the tears of their sorrow, and when it was fullto overflowing, they poured it out on the altar as a libation to their horrible God.
After which sad rite the service was adjourned, and the celebrants, in silence, filed home one by one.
Illustration: THE SACRED ORDER OF ANCIENT TIMERS AND HOLY RETROGRESSIONISTS.