The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1873-01-17
TH.e Coquette'a Fate,

Could paint her perfect beauty.'
srurn Oh the light aid poke til,
crate, so that the fire may burr
cheerily. There is 50 much gloon
ii nv heart tonight, | wish AZ leas
my study to appear cheerful. Ihat
will do, Thomas
And my man shuts the door has
tily, and htirries 70 the servants
hall, where the fellow will doubt
less be happy enough among hi
companions, little needing Or caring
about his masters smood.
I ATTENDED two funerals to-day,
A very unusual thing for me, as
habitually abstain from such gath
eriugs, save when relative or a
yery near friend claims the last sad
attention.
The lirst was a gorgeous affair,
too much 50, thought, for the cir
cumstacces which called the con-
course together. Too much pomp,
a dearth ot' gennine sorrow. Too
many gilded turaouts and liveried
coach and fuotmen. Too much or
sequiousneSs on the part Of some,
too much haughtiusSs in Others.
Nothing but hollowlieSs and unre-
aIity, nothing but mockery in that
palace OF death, though it did rear
its elegant proportions on Madison
avenue, with its possessor with mill
ions at his command.
Ithoda Burt was dead--at the
aye Of twenty-eight years; bnt it
was difficult t. realize It when gaz-
ing at her body as it lay rob'd tits
costly trappings. She looked as #
she was scarcely sixteen.
The old smie--hal halfhanghty, half
relentirg was still upon her lips.
That perfect beauty which had sent
dozens of noble fellows reeling to
destruction, fingered over the face,
as if,leath hesitated to mar 50 be-
Witch 8 4 creation. All the old
taciilatipIls seemed to he present,
and were it not the lustrous eyes
were closed, and the low tones of
her voice were stilled turevermore,
one might have thought her dream
my.
Ny next sad visit wast to q short,
narrow street down town, within 2
stones thruw ot the hustle and tnr-
moil Of the business portion Of the
city, Twas a mean looking edi-
flee, inhabited by needy literary |
drudges, aud weary, disappointed
women, who are destined to labor
mlrecompensed until the Icy finger |
Of death is laid uponthe hearts who
have planned and lloped--and
tailel.
Ozark Buforl's body lay await
i Z iaterment. Seven friends stood
ready to follow it to tile grave.
There was no pomp here. Just
enough reSpcctability to make one
that lie was mingliag with
men of culture, who had to battle
hard tor the bare priyilegs Of sliv-
Ing. | could not avoid the retlec-
ton whether lite was worth the
As / lUked upOn the wan face If
the dead man my thoughts leapel
backward a dozen years to the time
when lark lSutall was wealthy
I'D conrtel. IN those days he fol-
Lived Rhnla Burt half over En-.
rore, at times reveiilig IN bliss, at
,tlles plugged ii sorrow, accord
ng to the moods ii which lie found
he girl lie adored.
I had bsen roaming tile plails Of
Isombarly when chance threw John
Inrt, wife and daughter, aid Z ark
3uStd ii my way.
lSnrt $as a yew York man, well
slowi to tile Wall street traterIli-
!. He was immensely wealtlv and
lery popular, kF he layislled bis
b mey with freedom that burlcrpd
IpoIl rasibesS !
Rllola was his only cIli.l. She !
night have made i loving and Z
yinpatllizing wamaih tar hcr heart I
aS ilps vicious after All. / think [
81 parems will some day have . )