The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1878-04-25

stified scream and fell fainting in the
arms of her husband. Every body said
it was the heat, the fatigue, the excite
ment, which caused her to swoon, and
all were too much engaged with the
event to observe the blanched face of
the 'Judge," who clutched the columns
of the porch to keep from falling.
When few days had elapsed, and
the excitement over the new arrival had
partially subsidized, it was discovered
that the Judge had disappeared. No
one remembered to have seen him after
the stage drove in.
Ere the swarm of busy life swept away
from the placers, and the hum of min
ing and of miners voices ceased, the
little knoll overlooking the plat became
dotted with graves. Many who left
home and friends with an ardent, eager
thirst for gold, wearied and were asleep
among the gold-veins-found resting
places in the very heart of the diggings
where they worked. And some mines
in this mining-camp battle-ground
covered hearts that in life were warmer
and tenderer, if possible, than those of
the brave generous pioneers-covered
hearts of the pioneers wives. In one
OF these graves, the one whose romance
l am telling, lay June Meredith.
When the mines were worked out,
and the bustling camp had become a
farming village, most of the graves
were moved to a filter burying- place
near the road. When the bodies were
being removed the workmen, early one
morning, found well dressed, middle
aged stranger sitting ON the grave I'M
der the oak. He had been seen
to enter the village at dusk
the evening before, and it was
readily conjectured that he had been by
the grave all night. He said few
words to the man who had charge of
the work, and emphasized his language
with handful of money land then he dis
appeared without letting any one know
who he was, or whence he came. 1t
was scarcely necessary to say this grave
was not touched. The knoll was rob-
bed of all its other dead, but June Mere
dith sleeps where they laid her. The
date on the marble tombstone showed
that the stranger had visited the spot on
the anniversary night of the death of
the woman who lay slumbering there.
In speaking, one with another, con-
eerning the event, it was ascertained
that the stranger, or some one resem-
bling him, had been seen in the neigh
borhood during prior years, at about
the same time Of the year.
This is about all. The "Judge" had
never been seen at the Springs after his
sudden disappearance, until the stormy,
dreary night when June Meredith died.
No matter how completely he worship
ed her, no matter how desolate was his
aimless life, his sense of honor forbade
him from so much as visiting her while
she was another's.
But when she was dying, when all
hope of life was gone, when she lay with
closed eyes so quiet and still that she
seemed to be listening to voices from
the further shore, the door opened soft
~, and the Judge entered the room. He
was pale and haggard and care-worn,
and was only shadow of his former
self, but the blue eyes Enclosed and
frightened with a joyous recognition.
In the dim shadowland of death there
was no hesitation. With eager, out
stretched arms she clasped his neck, and
as his lips touched hers she murmered,
/" In Heaven!"
The next moment she was dead!
Every year, on the anniversary night
of her death, he visits her grave.
The old mining-cam is completely
deserted now. The night wind sweeps
chilling and desolate past the old flat
where the boys mined, past the tailings,
past drifts of washed sand, and patches
of bedrock left clean and bare, but in
all the valley it finds never a human
form, save the one lying silent and mo-
tionless by that lonely grave. When the
vigil is past, he goes quietly back to the
great city, back to the whirl and drive
and turmoil of life and business. Pa
tiently he waits for the longed-for time
when he can join her in that heaven
where all the mistakes of this life will be