East Saginaw courier. (East Saginaw, Mich.) 1859-18??, 1865-12-27
A GRAVE GIVES UP IT'S DEAD.
BY ARTHUR MERTON.

went OIL as well as any thing OF the
kind / ever saw. / think 1t would
have been better If that prim Miss
Hagcart had not been invited; but
then / don't know that John could
have helped it, seeing that it was to
be family dinner party. Miss Hag-
cart is a cousin of his wife's, and Mary
would have felt offended if she had
been sighted. / saw, at the very
moment that i entered the drawing
room, that she was going to doher
best to please mo; and DIR. Willowly,
my old friend, who is always joking
me on my bachelorhood-an absurd
habit that some married people have
gave me nudge, as much as tosay,
"Now, Bill Seaton, behave your best
while in the presence of Miss Hagcart
She wants to be married, and you are
in need Of WIFE"
/ was as bearish as possible toward
Miss Hagcart. The dinner went off
as well as such well-assorted parties
usually do; and after the ladies had
left the table, the wine circulated
quickly. 1 like old port hugely, and
| did full justice to it that day Though
the wines sparkled, / could not help
thinking that the sparlxles were not SO
bright as Jessie Willowly's eyes;
though / thought, as l looked in tho
glass, that they were shining there at
me as they had been when she was
at the table opposite me. The party
broke up soon after dinner. Jessie
must return home, she said, as she
expected few young friends to tea;
and an old uncle drove her over to her
abode. The Doctor must 60 and see
a patient, and there was no attraction
left for me; so announced my inten-
ton of going too. John and his wife
tried to detain me by words, and Miss
Hagcart by her glances, but neither
availed; and the Doctor and l left
together, keeping the same road, as
his patient dwelt beyond the house
where l myself resided. Presently
we passed by the old church, standing
in the graveyard so thickly studded
with graves. Beyond was low row
of iron doors that led into the tombs
in the hill side. BY unexpressed mu-
tual consent, we leant up against the
low wall, and looked over where,
among others, the Willowlys and Sea-
tons had been buried for many gener-
ations, and where we both confidently
expected sooner or later to also be
sleeping the same unbroken sleep.
"They are having quiet sleep here,
Seaton," said the Doctor, after we had
leaned against the wall fully three
minutes without speaking.
Yes, Doctor-so quiet and deep
that they can not hear our voices, even
those lying close here under the wall,
nor hear the wind rustling the leaves
above them. Here, before many days,
we too shall be sleeping as deaf as our
neighbors on either side-the long
forgotten ancestors Of the Willowlys
and Seatons %
Yes; and we can't tell how soon.
Death comes some times when we least
expect it. Widow Clark, whom | am
now going to see, was well three days
ago; and to-day it is doubtful if she
can recover. In fact, i almost know
she can not ~
Saying so, the Doctor brought down
his cane upon one of the rough stones
of the wall as if TO enforce the decision
that he had in his own mind arrived at.
"Indeed, Doctorl Then must call
on her tomorrow. We've always been
friends; and, If she dies, 1 shall miss
her very much"
"Well, well, we must all go some
day, sooner or later; and, if she goes
before us, why, she has the advantage,
that is ALL"
With this we turned away from the
church yard, and went down the road,
still conversing upon the subject, until
we reached the door of my own house.
"Come and see me tomorrow
said the Doctor, as he babe me good
evening. "I shall be at home after
two, unless there is some new case
that requires my attention"
You may expect me-" was my
reply, as l mounted the steps and
wondered, as / entered the sitting
room, which it was that made me
promise so readily-my old friendship
for the Doctor, or the bright eyes of
his daughter Jessie.
My housekeeper, Mrs. Bell, was
knitting vigorously in the sitting-room
when ] entered; but she arose and
placed my armchair in my favorite
place by the window, and at the same
time expressed her surprise at my early
return. She did not expect me for at
least two hours, she said.
1t was partly the truth that l told
her-that / had found the party dull,
and so had got away as soon as possi-
Die. 1t was dull as soon as Jessie had
gone. All the lights seemed to be
gone out of the house when she de-
parted. rlw in .lW
1 seated myself in the chair Mrs.
Bell placed for me, and answered her
inquiries as she propounded them
This questioning was habit she had,
and l rather liked it than otherwise.
Had sho for once neglected her usual
cross-questioning, l should have been
at a loss what TO have done with my
self, or in what manner l could have
conveyed to her the events of the day
as they had come TO me. Such is the
force Of habit; and for nearly fifteen
years 1 had been subjected to it every
time / had gone out. But on this
occasion, either she did not ask her
questions as-fast as usual, or else L did
not take that interest that usually
experienced in tho narration of what
had transpired in my absence, for, in
spite of my efforts, / became drowsy,
and Mrs. Bell noticing it, suggested
that / should retire to my chamber