Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1883-11-21
GRAVEYARD FANCIEs.
Sights and Sounds in q Cemetery.

Sights and Sounds i'm a Cemetery.
A CHEERFUL CHAT WITH A GRAvE-DIaaER-THE
sEPULcHRAL AND PROPHETIC HoOTING OF MID
NIGHT BIRDS sTRANGEaT THINGS SEEN BIT AN
OLD VETERAN OF THE sPADE-sCENEs FROM
LIFE DRAMAS ENACTED AMONG THE TOMB
STONES ETC.
did 1 ever see anything strange about
graveyard Well, l. guess if you had seen as
many strange things as have you'd not be ask
ing me such questions" The speaker leaned
upon his spade and eyed The STAR reporter Gu
riously. Strange things7 Well, l should think
so! I've been digging graves here nigh onto
twenty years, and should think in that time
I'd mad opportunity enough to see 'em. Strange
things! Strange il more ways than one. It's
all strange. Strange folks are buried here;
strange folks come to the funeral; strange folks
come to visit the graves afterwards; and
stranger still are the things that happen when
every one is gone away and the gates are shut
for the night-when long shadows stretch across
the gravel walks and the white stones stand out
against the gray sky like so many dead people
getting out OF their graves In their shrouds.
Then its 80 awfully still I've lived that little
house out there by the gate. as l said. nigh on
to twenty years. and I've never heard a sound
after dark except the screeching OF the owls
Speaking about owls, it's mighty wond er how
they like to stay about graveyard"
do they stay around much?" asked the re-
porter.
why, yes. 1t seems like the graveyard ia
tneir natural element, especially when there's
lots OF big trees and iyy-grOwn vaults. To hear
an owl hoot in the night here, as do some
times, when everything is. still. would make
your blood run cold. They don't keep it up
right along through the night, 80 you can get
used to it; but it will be quiet for long time
SO stu that you ge, almost afraid to breathe
| and the falling OF the leaves startles you-then
| all of sudden you'll hear long oot-too-toot
and dull rushing In the air, as big owl sails
oy ana drops down upon vault beneath the
that's buried there
Il can always tell when there's going to be a
busy time here" he continued. "When the
owls are particularly plenty and keep up an
awful hooting during the night look for the
| funerals next Cay. They always come. When
the owls boot it means funerals"
81 don't like owls" the old man went on,
scraplng the red clay from his spade with the
toe. of his boot. 81 don't like 'e.n; they don't
near mean good; Dead people are good enough in
KIND OF half-dead and half-alve bird, and if
t'warnt that 1 knew that they can't get at 'em,
Ia Deileve they lived on dead people"
PEOPLE WHO GO TO FUNERALS.
Don't you see any strange things besides
oWls' asked the reporter. seeing that the old
man had run Off at tangent, and was likely to
talk about owls all the evening"
YES lots of EN-. Strange people come here
Some people seem to have kind of liking for
graveyards." he replied, looking at the reporter
as If he thought he might be counted in that
class. Then, being convinced that he had never
seen the scribe before, he went on: Yes, there
Wh I hou frio do
buried here, and don't believe have any dead
| ones In the family. come here and 90 about
| signing and looking miserable over all the
graves that have big stones. Then they go out
| as II they had had a treat. Then there are
other people who go to all the funerals. They
always go with the mourners, and cry and take
on as If they had lost a dear friend, and when
its all over they go away and wait for the next
Ihey are always on hand and get to know 'em
right we'll"
Don't many people come here who do not
take any Interest whatever in the place for its
associations" asked the reporter. ''Lovers. for
instance, who come here to find some secluded
place where they can talk without being inter-
rupted7"
ways tell them when they come in. They walk
very slow and close up to each other, and as
soon as they get into the grounds they make for
some secluded spot, as far from the gate as pos
sbe. Then they try to look as if they got there
Ill.
new couples are coming all the time The old
ones get married and then they never come back
again until they have to- as sometimes they do"
Its awful sad then" he added, as he bowed
his head and looked thoughtfully into the deep
hole he had just been digging. Eyes, it's aw-
fully sad when one Of these lovers dies; the
other takes on 50 awfully"
DRAMA FROM LIFE.
/ remember when first came here. nigh on to
twenty years ago, there was a young co uple
used to come here regularly every Sunday after
noon. They were always so sweet and loving
to each other-so romantic. They used to stroll
around the paths, talking very low and earn
estly, and always seeming so happy in their
quiet way They seemed as II one could not
1--we without the Other. They wern't like the
others. who make love just for fun | used to
watch ttem all the time, but they did not know
1t. They never saw anything but each other at
tnese times. Yet there was something kind
o sad about them that fascinated me, and |
took deep interest In them almost without
knowing It,"
As he went on. the old mans voice became
subdued andtremulous. lone Sunday missed
them. The next and the next, and they did not
appear. One day after that there was funeral
could tell it was young person. Then, when
the mourners got out and stood by the grave l
saw my young lady among them. She wasn't
crying, but she was In deep mourning, and
iooheu aWlulIy pale. linen l Knew all. They
went away, and / could hardly keep from CRYING
myself as shoveled the clay down on the coffin
of my young man. Well the next Sunday she
came all wrapped in black veil, and staid by the
grave until it was almost dark TWAS cloudy.
and had commenced to sprinkle little, but she
did not seem to notice it, So went up to her
and told her it was time to shut the gates and
she would have to 60. l can never forget the
way she looked as she lett that grave Some
times l see that white face at night No. she
was not crying. She went away and l never
saw her again, but that morning as l cleaned off
the new grave 1 picked up bit OF paper with
something written on it. 1t was poetry. and
she must have written 1t while sitting there. It
had been in the rain all night. but dried 1t out
and folded it away in my wallet, where 1t has
been ever SINCE" Here the old man took from
his wallet piece of folded paper, which he I'M
folded carefully, as if a sacred thing, and 81
lently handed it to the reporter There. written
in pencil in delicate wOman's hand but so dim
that it could scarcely be read, was this curious
dirge:
Let not the moon to shine;
Darkness alone Is mine,
Here will sit and twine
WreathS for his head
Let not the stars to peep
See We, the heavens Weepl
Leave me alone to keep
watch with the dead.
Let not the flowers bloom: