The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1879-10-25

was, and Freeman's wife said the ghosts
O. the young man an the Young woman
an the babby watched wild the BODY all
night. I whit Wild Brislin, that was INV
father, am looked in q windy. but We
couldn't see nothin'. But fireman.
wife, she lives nigh the freight-house.
she seed them there. AM She sees them
now every little while, an they've been
In her very bedroom, but not lately.
She has ghoost-seein' eyes, Uncle Sam.
my says. The very reddesto' the sweet
pinks grows Just beyond the Willers
over there. but we childer be afeard to
stay there an pick 'em. I will be after
goin' with you, though, II We don't mind
my takin hold o. your dress - f
reached down and clasped the little
fat fingers, feeling well paid for the
slight act Of protecti on by the eloquent
look of surprise mingled with gratitude
cast up in my face from the sky-blue
eyes. tk$k as.F
:" Wechilder, to keep 'em quiet. but
little punches o. flowers on the graves
most every day in warm weather. We
runs an throws 'em over an wheels an
runs back wild our eyes shut for fear we
shall see suthin'-ugh! Z" as another
gust Of wind swept the long slender
branches Of the great willow, disclosing
their shimmering CLEANS of white, 4" do
you see 'em, ladyf II they be GHOSTS,
an they may be, they be LOVELY ones. y
After our hands were filed with the
wonderful wild sweet azalea blooms, /
went up and looked through the willow
hedge at the three lonely grass-grown
graves over which were scattered nose
gays of wild flowers in various stages
OF decay, offered BY the simple children
Of the !" shanty villagen for the
qnieting OF the supposed restless
spirits. .-A..e..-.
al guess as long as 1 be here now IN
t'row over 3 few," said the square little
girl. 81 shouldn't want 'em to feel
slighted, for they be strangers in q
strange land-not as I know GHOSTS
would feel sighted" she added naive
~, as we walked away, "but it seems
to me 1 should, il were in their places,
an had as few frien's as they has-which
you can't count many, don't you see I
only Uncle Sammy as planted the viii.
lows an knows the stories about 'em,
an Freeman's wife as sees 'eln, an the
childer IS carries 'em flowers cos they e
afeard o. 'em, an me as loikewise
shivers whin the willows blow white, but
feels frien'ly, bein' loikewise an unfor-
Tint"
questioned "Uncle Sammy" after
my return, as sat upon the shady side
of the station platform arranging my
| flowers, and he told me the thre8 sscuris''
stories, while the square little girl stood
near with an eager attitude, noddine
her round yellow head emphatically
now and then, as some of her statements
to me were confirmed.
"Wa, the one that sleeps in the
greenest grave" said Uncle Sammy, a
he carefully fashioned q spinniDg-toE
out of bit Of white pine board, viii
the keen blade of his jack-knife, twas 9
man Of about Is, should jedge, thai
was killed by John Wilbur's freight ons
bitter, cold, stormy day. . matter o.
seven or eight years ago, or 50. Thu
poor unfortinit' was Walkin' on The
ltrack, some three miles above here
with his head down, his cap pulled ovel
his eyes and the wind in his face wher
Ethey came upon him in roundup Z
curve. Afore there was time to pull thu
bell-rope, or reverse the lever, the saw
age snow-plow had hit him an his SOU
had gone ups up through the whirlin'
blinoin' snow back to God who gave it
"It was one Of the pleasantest, faires
| faces ever see when they brought hin
! in here. John Wilbur stood ont Their
4 in the wind with the tears freezin' ontt
his pale cheeks a. he was tellin' tn
| dretful story, Jest to think ont, salt
The, that half an hour ago this man wa
4 "a full of life and hope as any one Of us
nc goes to showus how near our railroa'
/ runs to the gate of the other world.
i "WAl. We laid the unfortinit man on
\ decently In the freight-hoose Office, ami
then We telegraphed right and LETT, try
i in to find ont somethin' about him
| The only clew We could git hold on wa!
j that an Enalishman had been askin' to
il work M at Br&ckenbofos the day before
II and had been directed to the steam-mil
here. But in the breast-pocket of th
| poor feller's short jacket was little let
i tar with no envelope to 1t, much worl
i with many roadin's. / know it By heart
It said, Dear John: Baby Mary grow
finely. and a. soon as she's stronl
enough to sail over the sea ! viii jon
vou at Brackenboro'. The old grand
father Is cad at the thought Of our leav
J in him behind, but comfort him ever
day with the kind words you wrote
!, that when We had = roof Of our owl
with willow-tree 1t the door, he shout
: 4 sit in the shade Of it and sing to the Chi
!, dren the songs Of old England
II cit was the letter Of one not mucl
. used to writin', guess. with no addres
, but The Willows, England 1t had n
date, and was signed Alice Leigh,
; The coroner's jury brought in verdic
of san unknown man killed. with q
, fault Of the road'-though it was plai
enough to me that the man was job
- Rnulaud We buried him d