News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1881-12-29
HANNAH JANE!

Poor, old man he walked feebly an,
disconsolately about the leaf-strew
cemetery and paused now and then wit
a weak, irresolute air of uncertaint,
that betoken a failing and troubles
mind; he seemed to be looking TO
some one or something, and yet he diC
not stay his footsteps at any of tn,
graves, and he passed the costliest mon
uments without glance. Presently he
retraced his way and, seeking here and
there among the unmarked graves in
the game istless, dazed way, approached
a laborer being in one of the avenues,
and asked, tremulously:
"Can you tell me where Hannah Jane
is buried, my friend ?"
The man looked up roughly, and if
the speaker had been arrayed in fine
- h With weed in his silk hat,
- him an rSgrec'ors
- Saw thin old face set
in frame of white hair, bent and
shrunken form in humble garb, and he
answered respectfully:
"Who did you say, sir-wot name ?"
"Hannah Jane; she's my wife, you
know, and because of my son they buried
her here instead of down in our country
graveyard, where we used to live years
ago. My sons big man here-a bust
ness nlan--and he gave us lot worth
two hundred dollars to bury her in. l
bought Virginny rose and sweet
briar and some sweetwilliams and planted
on it mebbe you'd know it now"
ST don't know as I do" said the work
man gently, "but if you think you can
tell me about where the grave is, I'll try
and help ye."
They walked up and down for little,
and then the old man stopped beside
splendid white marble shaft that reared
its fair proportions far above the neigh
boring monuments, and shaking his
head feebly said with the old irresolu-
ton:
sits very strange, an can't make it
out at all-mebbe I'm gettin' old, but
was sure this was the spot"
The workman put up his hand to hide
q smile.
"That ere grave don't look like as it
ever had sweet-william planted on it,
does it, old man I'm favorable to them
flowers myself. Halo! Wat did you
say the name was ?"
'Hannah Jane" answered the old
man, reverently lifting his hat from his
white hairs, 'tand wherever you are,
my dear, God bless you ~ he added,
looking up to heaven.
"Wall, now," said the workman, get
ting down on his knees to look at the
lettering on the bran new shaft, "this
beats me ! Here's n and Jane;
what's the rest of the name, old man
Foster ?''
"Yes, yesi' answered the old man
eagerly; then look of bitter disap-
poiptment crept over his face. fYou
don't mean it." he said slowly, "they've
never gone and put their great raonu-
nient over Hannah Jane, she that |
wanted birds and flowers and the |
blessed air of heaven above her and the
Jun shinin' and the dew fallin' on the
pot where she slept; she that built
adder to the skies in good deeds and
vas humber than a leetle child, and
would rayther have had board at her
lead, down in the old graveyard, with
'lain Hannah Jane on it carved by me
t don't seem right, that's all"
He went away sadly and lingeringly,
md he never came back, but the man
ne talked to planted sweet-williams and
'ose slips on the grave and it looks
trange to see them tangled in wild pro-
usion about the stately marble, and
whenever he sees funeral stop near
hat spot he looks to see if another
rave is dug there, "for some day." he
ays to himself while he works, "my old
nan will come back to his Hannah Jane"
Detroit Free Press.