Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-11-05
A GRAVEYARD IDYL,


IN the summer Of 49,, when young Doc
TOR Putnam was recovering from an attack of
typhoid fever, he used to take short walks I'm
the suburbs Of the little provincial town
where he lived. He was still weak enough
to need cane, aud had to sit down nowand
then to rest. His fayorite haunt was an old
usnlOned cemetery lying at the western edge
built.
1t was a quiet, shady old cemetery, not
much disturbed by funerals. Only at rare
intervals fresh heap OF earth and a slab of
clean marble intruded with their tale of a
new and clamOrOus grief among the sunken
mounds and weather-st stained tombstones Of
the ancient sleepers for whom the tears had
long been dried.
one afternoon Putnam was in his accus-
toned seat, whistling softly to himself and
cutting his initials into the edge OF the bench.
The air was breathless, and the sunshine lay
so hot on the marshes that 1t seemed to draw
up IN visible steam briny incense which
mingled with the spicy smell of the red
cedars. Absorbed in reverie, he failed to
notice how the scattered clouds that had
been passing across the sky all the afternoon
were being gradually reinforced by big fluffy
cumult rolling up from the north, until a
rumble overhead and the rustic Of a shower
in the trees aroused him.
In the center Of the grounds was an ancient
summer-house standing amidst maze Of
LONCl -DtuS lultTS6CIeu Dy Rr0Nel walks.
This was the nearest shelter, and. as the rain
began to patter smartly, Putnam pocketed
his knife, turned up his cOat-cOllar and ran
for it. Arrived at the garden house, he
found there group of three persons, driven
TO harDor from different parts Of the ceme-
terry. The shower increased to a storm, the
latttces were lashed by the rain and a steady
stream poured from the caves. The althRa
and snOwberry bushes i'm the flower-pots
and even the stunted bOX-edges along the
paths, swayed in the wind. 1t grew quite
dark in the summer-house, shaded by two
or three old hemlOcks, and ii was only by
the lightning-tiashes that Putnam could
make out the features of the little company
of refugees. They stood in the middle OF the
building, to avoid the sheets of rain blown
in at the doors in gusts, huddling around a
pump that was raised on n narrow stone
patform-nOt unlike the daughters of Priam
clustered about the great altar in the pene-
tralia;, Pr9cipites atra ecu tempestate
columbia.
They consisted Of a young girl. an elderly
woman with towel and watering pot, and n
workman in oYeralls, who carried a spade
and had perhaps been interrupted in digging
grave. The platform around the pump
hardly gave standing room for fourth.
Putnam accordingly took his seat on a tool
chest near one OF the entrances, and, while
the soft spray blew through the latticcs over
his face and clothes, he watched the effect
of the lightning flashes ON the tossing, drip
ping trees OF the cemetery; grounds.
81 have spent the night here often, " said
the Young lady, in an absent voice and as il
murmuring to herself.
"Nou haver' exclaimed Putnam. ooh,
you slept in the tOOl-chest, L suppose, on
the old lady's shake down"
She was silent, and he began to have a
weird suspicion that she had spoken in earn
est. "This is getting interesting" he said
TO himself; and then aloud, +" You must
have seen queer sights. OF course, when
the clock struck twelve all the ghosts popped
out and sat on their respective tombstones.
The ghosts in this cemetery must be awfullv
old fellows. 1t doesn't look as If they had
buried any one here for a hundred and thir-
ty-tiye years. I've often thought 1t would
be good idea to inscribe Complet over the
gate, as they do on a Paris omnibus. -
You speak very lightly Of the dead"
said the young girl in a tone of displeasure
and looking directly at him.
Putnam felt badly snubbed. He was about
to attempt an explanation, but her manner
indicated that she considered the conyersa.
tion at an end, She gathered up her skirts
and prepared to leave the summer house.
The water had soaked away somewhat into
the gravel
" Excuse me-" said Putnam, advancing
desperately and touching his hat, "but no-
tice that your shoes are thin and the ground
is still very wet. l am going right over to
High Street, and il can send you a carriage
or anything"
Thank you, no sha'n't need it," and
she stepped off hastily down the walk.
Putnam looked after her till a winding of
the path took her out of sight, and then
started slowly homeward, "What the deuce
could she mean, " he pondered as he walked
along, "about spending the night in the
cemetery Can she-nO she can't-be the
gatekeeper's daughter and live in the gate
housey Anyway, she's mighty pretty"
On the next day he started ON his custO-
mary wall, and his feet led him involuntarily
to the cemetery, As he traveTsed the path
along the edge Of the hill he saw in one OF
the grave lots the heroine Of his Yesterdays
encounter, and sudden light broke in on
him: she was mourner. And yet how hap
pened 1t that she wore no blaCky There was
wooden railing round the inelosure, and
within it single mound and a tombstone of
fresh marble. A few cut flowers lay on the
grave, She was sitting In a low wicker
chair, her hands folded In her lap and her
eyes fixed Yacanty on the western hills
Putnam now took closer note OF her face. IL
was Of brown paleness. The air Of haul
teur given it by the purity Of the profile and
the almost insOlent stare of the large black
eyes was contradicted by the sweet, irreso-
lutte curves Of the mouth. At present her
look expressed only profound apathy. As
he approached her eyes turned toward him,
but seemingly without recognition. Diff
dence was not among Tom Putnam's fail
ings: he felt drawn by an unconquerable
sympathy and attraction 10 speak TO her,
even at the risk of intruding upon the sa-
credness Of her grief.
Excuse me, miss" he began, stopping In
front OF her, "but L want to apologize for
what | said yesterday abOut-abOut the GEM
etery. II must have seemed very heartless to
you, but / didn't know that you were in
mourning when spoke as / did"
81 have forgotten what you said" she an
swered.
az am glad you have" said Putnam,
rather fatuOusly. There seemed really moth
ing further TO say, but as he fingered for a
moment before turning away perverse rec
objection surprised him, and he laughed out
loud.
She cast a look Of strong indignation at
him, and rose to her feet