The Arkansaw traveler., 1883-09-08
For Tlx fySir1la Zr9zefsy. TALES OF THE WEIRD AND TRAGIC.
ANGAN's coBRI
py ReFys WILSON.

PY RtFUs R. WILSON.
 Though, by some ,o be strange, mys- terious man, have always loved solitude and quiet. For me the murmuring wood, the silent hill and the peaceful river passes a charm which have sought for and found no, in society and among the dwellings of men. Especially restful to me IS the solitude and quiet which greets and influences one in the home of the dead. Even when boy l would steal away to the village cemetery and sit for hours at the grave of my mother. The most peaceful moments of my life were spent near tha. low mound. and the les sons there iearned-so ehaste and pure have sent their influence after me down through the years, leading me ever into wiser and better parts. Such being my nature it is not strange that when came to reside in strange village-far distant from my old home, the burial ground soon grew to be one ofmy favorite haunts. The marble columns, surrounded by countless shafts-all pointing skyward and tracing the same great truths on the blue ether-showed that many more had come 10 reside there than in the bustling village beyond. It was situated on the brow of level topped hill, at the base oi which, not unlike monster snake, wound sream of black, sluggish water. In one corner of the yard was rustic bench from which one caught glimpse on the one hand of the village, backed by a lofty mountain, that al times seemed flooded with sunshine and again loomed up grim and awful on the other hand,
 and n striking contrast with the noun tain wall, be lutiful, misty valley wound away in graceful curves toward the south. Often l would seek this seat of an after noon and there sit for hours-sometimes until the shades of evening began 10 fall- los, in strange day dreams or working ou, fantastic fomances that never found their way into form and being.
 The burial ground was little free uenied. At times funeral train would wInd its way along the road and into the eeme- tery. The living would gather about in silence, while the dead was consigned 10 its dark and narrow home, and then they would go away. Ot Sunday. people would come from the village and wander in a subdued and reveren; way among the graves. On weekdays, ,visitors-these were usually women-would sometimes come and seeking out grass grown mound, for hours kneel above 1t 1; but the only enc whom saw often was the sexton, who when not at work in newly made grave, would espy bending above some green mound, arranging the flowers. clipping the grass and following the round of his melancholy tasks. He vas a tall, slender old man, withered and bent with the storms and burdens of many years and one whom long associa- ton with the silent ones around him had led to take on many of their attributes and not few of their virtues Naturally a man of few words he had long since grown gloomy and reticent-and his heart and passions as thickly over grown with moss as the graves he tended. He was usually alone, bat at times l noticed in his com pany little child his grand-daug ghter thought Ia dancing ray of sunshine, of which he seemed strangely fond. She would play beside him when he worked 1; cunning to attend his slightest wan, and when, with slow and labonous footsteps. he moved to another part of the burial ground, she would dart on ahead with light and noiseless footsteps. and then turning to see the old man far behind her, she would run back and catching him by the hand laughingly chide him tor his want of haste. A strangely mated couple they the old man. frozen icicle ; and the child, gleam ofgolden sunshine 1; and many an hour l spent in watching them.
 always take an interest in a grave that in any way attracts my attention l wonder what was now the history of him who is now it's occupant and what would be his emotionx could he view the out ward appearance of his Last home. And So, in answer to my questions. the sexton- vho at first seemed content to watch me from afar, bat gradually groving more eompanionable would, when resting from his work, come and sit by my side-wouid often tell me in his strange, quiet vay, of the mortal doings of these around us, and how each in his own way had at iast Cone to this place of rest. One grave in particular, which could easily see from my resting place on the rustic bench, at traced my attention. The gray head- stone had fallen upon the ground and vas now ove1grovn with moss, rendering the sestering SO indistinct that t was with difhcuity [ deciphered these words |: Angan, aged tventy-seven years The surname, the date ot the death and all