Morning journal and courier., 1882-07-17
steadfastness and Simplicity.
Love Story from the Berkshire Hills.
 From the Philadelphi Ledger.l


 correspondent writes the following count of a strange funeral he attended among the Berkshire Hills, Massachusetts
 B. and I drove to the church and went down into the little ravine behind it. Here we stood for while waiting until we saw slowly ascending the hill solemn procession. Two huge oxen came first, drawing wooden sled, on which was a rude coffin, covered with black cloth. On either side of the sled walked two rough countrymen with long whips. Immediately after, with tear stained faces, walked the near relatives of the dead man. We joined in the procession and soon reached beautifully wooded knoll just out side of the small clean yard. Here was the newly dug grave, and the patient beast toiled to the side of the great yawnlng hole, we formed in a circle around 1t. The colin was lifted from the sled and in silence lowered l in it's last resting place. Not word was spoken and the oxen from time to time turn l ed their great heads as though to have one l last look at the master who had cared for \ them in all these last years, and so loved l them that he desired they should carry hin | to his grave. All stood silent as the earth ! was shovelled in by the sturdy coatless men l; ! only the rushing torrent of the mountain stream near by, and an occasional bird note l in the stiffness. At last the work was com ! plete, the spades laid upon the sled and the 1 huge beasts were slowly turned into the path, I we following until we reached the little homestead at the foot of the ravine. The l oxen were unyoked and quietly walked into 8 field and stood gazing at the solemn pro- 1 cession that wound past them on to the piaz- l ga of the house. A few words were spoken, 1 the key turned in the door, and, with 8 ! ''Well, we shall all miss Uncle Ira," each ! went his homeward way.
 1 And now for the strange story of the man l whose ending but in keeping with his | lonely life. Fifty or more years ago 8 stout l New England boy had accumulated acre by acre and his savings enabled him to build 8 comfortable house and barn in one of the 1 most beautiful spots of all Berkshire. House ! and homestead were made ready for his wife. ! He thought he had won the heart of neigh ! boring beauty, but it was the old story a new ! wooer from town carried off the faithless
 damsel and so for fifty years the man lived l alone-Gterally alone-with his animals Not until three weeks ago would he allow 6
 woman to come near him, then he had growr
 weak and worn with age and disease
 His relatives from year to year called upor
 him at times, and he constantly going
 into the village and doing all the good he
 could in his own peculiar way. An anchorite
 but not hermit, he lived outside of the
 world outside of the church., and his las
 commands were that he would die as he hac
 lived. No clergyman was allowed to como
 near him, and he selected the spot, outside O.
 the graveyard for his resting place, knol l which overlooked his lorely home. It was | curious episode of steadfastness and simplici ty on that beautiful June morning among thu l awful hills