New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1882-01-04
HANNAH JANE.

Poor, old man! he walked feebly and
disc olately about the leaf-strewn
cemetery and paused now and then
with weak, irresolute air of uncertain
ty that betokened a failing and troubled
mind; he seemed to be looking for some
one or something, and yet he did not
stay his footsteps at any of the graves,
and he passed the costliest monuments
without glance. Presently he retraced
his way and, seeking here and there
among the unmarked graves in the same
listless, dazed way, approached labor
er, being in one of the avenues, and ask
ed, TREMENDOUSLY:
"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
broadcloth with a weed in his silk hat,
he would have given him an ungra-
cious answer; but he saw a thin old face
set in a frame of white hair, a 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 business man-and he gave us a
lot worth two hundred dollars to bury
her in. bought a Virginny rose anda
sweet-briar and some sweet-williams and
planted on it; mebbe you'd know it
now"
II don't know as I do,'' said the
workman gently, ''but if you think YOU
can tell me about where the graveis, I'll
try and help ye.''
They walked up and down for a little,
and then the old man stopped beside !.
splendid white marble shaft that reared
it's fair proportions far above the neigh
boring monuments, and shaking his
head feebly said with the old irresolu-
! ton:
'lt's very strange, an 1 can't make
it out at al-mebbe I'm gettin' old, but
l was sure this was the spot.''
The workman put up his hand to hide
a smile.
''rhat ere grave don't look like as it
ever had sweet-william planted on it,
| does it, old man? Pm favorable to them
flowers myself. Halo! Wot did you
say the name wasp
''Hannah Jane" answered the old
man, reverently lifting his hat from
his white hairs, s'and wherever YOU are.
my dear, God bless your he added,
looking up to heaven.
''Wall, now,' said the workman, get
ting down on his knees to look at the
lettering on the brand new shaft, ssthis
beats me! Here's H and a Jane;
what's the rest of the name, old man?
Foster?'' .s....... ..
eyes, yesr' answered the old man,
eagerly; then look of bitter disappoi6t-
ment crept over his face. s:You don't
mean it, he said slowly, ''they've never
gone and put their great monument
over Hannah Jane, she that wanted
birds and flowers and the blessed air of
heaven above her and the sun shinin'
and the dew fallin' on the spot where
she slept; she that built a ladder to the
skies in good deeds and was humber
than leetle child, and would rayther
have had board at her head, down in
the old graveyard, with plain Hannah
Jane on it carved by me! 1t don't seem
right, that's allr'
ne went away sadly and ingeringly
and he never came back, but the man
he talked to planted sweet-williams and
rose slips on the grave and it seems
strange to see them tangled in wild pro-
fusion about the stated marble, and
whenever he sees funeral stop near
that spot he looks to see if another grave
is dug there, '.for some day." he says
to himself while he works, my old man
will come back to his Hannah Jane''