Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1884-03-20

all will behold the sorrowing hosts
of his own state. watering his grave
with tears and bedecking it with lily
and immortelle When these flowers
fade and their fragrance perishes, sur
viving affection will rear a scIlptured
column above his dust, and the en-
during marble itself shall crUmble and
decay ere his name and fame will fade
from recollection.
The insincerity Of this laudation is
measured by its extravaganza. Mr..
RYAN. of Kansas, did not believe that
millions of his countrymen We're at
that moment shedding reverent tears
over the tomb of the late Mr.. Haskell,
nor did he believe that Mr. HASKELL
/ fame as q statesman would Outlast the
marble of his monument.
Mr.. Russell, of Massachusetts,, drew
from Mr.. Haskell's death the impress
i've lesson that even Congressman are
mortal:
''Mr. Speaker, since we were select
seven of our number have been called
to that undiscovered country whence
no traveller returns. Certainly we
are not without admonition or warn
ing of the uncertainty of human life.
and that the grim messenger, Death
is no respecter of persons"
We make no comment upon the
peroratiOn OF Mr.. Burnes, of Mis-
souri,, who ventured to depict Mr.. Has
kel as already seated in q higher
Congress than this, over which Jesus
our Savior, in love and mercy uner-
ringly presides.
Mr.. Browne, of Indiana, concluded
his grafton with the following pas
sage:
1.-THE wrecked bark rides at anchor
without a disturbing wave. On his
grave the morning sun will rise and
evening twilight fade AS the years
90 by the stars will shine upon it. and
the gloom of the nights that are star
less robe it in blackness. The winter
winds will shrek above it, and in the
springtime the melody of the song bird
and the perfume of flowers will en-
viron it. There, In the solemn calm
of the grave, we left him to await the
call OF the angels"
Then came Mr. Bedford, of Colora-
do, with his assortment of metaphors
Dying is but disappearing mist
from the crest of the mountain. How
many ships with full sails go out into
the bosom of the ocean only to return
battered ard worn! How many
hearts commenced life joyful and glad
some, to afterwards beat irregular
ticks, like clock out of time.
EETIo rvyoc 1o117o1Iol I,o
very springtime of his days, with the
pulses of thought strong vigorous and
clear. How enchantingly the rain
bow of promise must have appeared
to him, and with what endearment he
must have embraced the prophecies
Of the future It is inexpressiblY sad
to witness the scissors Of death sever
| lag the thread that binds the human
soul to this earth. What hopes are
crushed, what anticipations are frost
ed? The ocean that separates this
world from the next no human eve
can penetrate.
ooh, what is death but a rebirth in.
to that larger life where we go on
/ forever! Who can measure the coma
/ pass Of our existence? We come here
/ W A0IiOAO OAI COIISS1IO, anu UG JdEG WILL
out being consulted"
To complete the pathos of the oc
casion 1t was only necessary that Mr.
Bedford should find nothing better
or sweeter" in the way of poetry t.
quote in honor Of Mr.. Haskell's mem
DRY than one of the efforts Of Colone
John A. Joyce, the convict member
of the whisky ring, and, finally, thar
he should summon once more to the
bar of the House the inevitable Julius
Caesar.
This sort of thing should stop in
Congress. 1t is an absolute loss of
valuable time. It is no honor to
the memory of worthy and respec
table members like Mr.. Haskell. 1t
is no credit to the orators themselves.
1t is largely humbug, for often the
most lachrymose funeral orators on
the floor are Congressman who are
believed to be the most jovial of junk
etors when they go in Pullman cars tc
carry the remains to the grave.