"You ricollect me tellin' you about that picture I saw at Henrietta's, 'The Angelus?' Well, there was another picture I'll never forgit as long as I live. It was a picture of Rizpah. I reckon you know who Rizpah was; you ought to know, any how." Aunt Jane looked inquiringly at me and paused for a reply. Rizpah? Rizpah? Yes, somewhere I had heard that stately name, but where? Was it in Greece or Rome or France or Italy? Juliet I knew, and Octavia and Iphigenia and Aspasia-- Had Rizpah any kinship to these? Aunt Jane's eyes were searching my face. "Honey," she said gravely, "you might jest as well own up that you don't know who Rizpah was. That comes o' parents not makin' their children read the Scriptures. When I was a child we had to read our Bibles every Sunday evenin' till pretty near sundown. I can't say we enjoyed it much, but when we grew up we didn't have to blush for shame when anybody asked us a Bible question. Now, you take my Bible yonder on the table, and find the second book of Samuel. I can't be expected to ricollect exactly the chapter or the verse, but you look around in that book till you see Rizpah's name and then read what it says." I made a hasty search for the passage and presently found it: "But the King took the two sons of Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, whom she bare unto Saul, Armoni and Mephibosheth; and the five sons of Michal the daughter of Saul, whom she brought up for Adriel the son of Barzillai the Meholathite; and he delivered them into the hands of the Gibeonites, and they hanged them in the hill before the Lord: and they fell all seven together, and were put to death in the days of harvest, in the first days, in the beginning of barley harvest. "And Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, took sackcloth, and spread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest until the water dropped upon them out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night."