Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1882-12-14
AN ELOQUENT GRAFTON.


people, with uncovered heads, were krrane-
cd around newly opened grave. They
we're Detective and Mrs. George A Miller
and friends, Who bad gathered TO witness
the burial Of the formerly bright little son,
Harry. As the coffin rested on the trestles,
there was = painful pause, broken only BY
the mothers sobs until the undertaken ad-
yanced toward stout, forid comple1ioned
gentleman in the party, whispered to him,
the words being inaudible to the lockers on.
The gentleman was Colonel Robert Inger-
solI. a friend Of the Millers, who attended
the funeral at their request. He then shook
his head and said:
docs Mr. Miller desire it?'
The undertaken gave an affirmative nod.
Mr.. Miller looked toward the noted orator,
and then Colonel Ingersoll hastily advanced
to the side Of the grave, and made one Of
his characteristic eulogies for the dead. He
stood unprotected from the drilling rain,
and said:
my friends, you know how vain il is to
gid grief with words, and yet ! wish to
take from every grave is fears. Here in
the world where life and death are equal
kings, all should be brave enough to meet
what ali dead have met. The futuIe has
been filed with tear, stained and polluted
bv the heartlsss past. From the wondrcus
tree Of lie, the buds aud blossoms fall with
ripened fruit, and in the common bed Of
earth the patriarchs. and babes sleep side by
eide, Why should We fear that which will
come to all that isf We cannot tell. We
do not know which is the greater blessing
life or death. We cannot say that death is
not as good; We do not know whether the
grave is the end Of this life or the door Of
another, or whether this night here lie moi
somewhere else at dawn. Neither can We
tell which is the more fortunate; the child
dying in its mothers arms, before its lip
have learned to form a word, or be Who
journeys all the length Of life's uneven road
painfully taking the last slow steps with
staff and crutch. Every cradle asks Us
Wiener and every coffin, 'Whither?
The poor barbarian, weeping above biz
dead, can answer SIS intelligently and satis
factorily Is the robed priest Of the most au
then,ic creed. The fearful ignorance Of thu
one is just as good az the learned and IN
meaning words OF the other. No mai
standing where the horizon of life ha
touched grave, has any right to prophes.
a future filled with pain and tears. IL ma.
be that death gives all there is OF worth T.
life. If those we press and strain againr
our hearts could never die, perhaps tina
love would wither from the earth. May b
this comman fate ,reads from ont the path
between our hearts the weeds of selhshnes
ard hate, and had rather live and Low
where death is king, than have eternal iii
where love is not. Another life is nsughl
unles. we know and love again the one VIII
loved us here.
"Those who stand with breaking heart
around this grave. reed have no fear. Th
lsrser and the pobler faith in all that II
and as to be, tells Us that death, even at II
worst, is Only pe.tec, rest. We know this
through the common wants of life the need
and duties of each hour, their griefs wil
Lessen day by day, until at last these grave
will be pace OF res, and peaee-simo'
Of ioy. There is for them this consolation
the dead do not suffer. II they live again
their lives will surely be as good as our
W. have no fesr: we are all children of tn