The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1889-11-13
+ THE WAYSIDE GRAVE.
A Pathetic Story Of the Lonely
Western Prairies.

western Prd1r10S.
About five miles out of Skytown on
the Ontario trail'' there is a lonely
little grave. At one end Of the mound
is rough wooden cross firmly planted
in the earth and a careful eye can
trace the words "Joe's Kid" rudely
carved upon the shorter transverse
piece of wood. Many time l have
paused by that little grave and won
dered who lay beneath the rough mon
ument and whether "Joe' was alive to
mourn for the child. 1t touched my
heart deeply, that mound on the dis
tant prairie. and often when going to
or coming from Ontario l would pluck
a bunch OF wild roses and golden-rod
and lay them by the cross.
IF were Joe, " thought l, II should
be glad to think that some one remem-
bered my child"
One day as was coming into Sky
town ] saw a man kneeling upon the
sod by the cross and aimlessly hand
ling the withered flowers had put
there from time to time. He was clad
in the garb of ranchman and his
broad-brimmed white hat was pulled
down over his eyes so that / could
scarcely see his face. He had SEEM
ingly just dismounted, for his horse
was standing near by.
Now" thought !, perhaps the
mystery can be solved" and turned
from the road and drove over towards
him.
The stranger looked up in surprise
as l halted beside him. spoke to
him cordially He answered me
gruffly and arose to his feet, as though
angry at my intrusion.
81 beg your pardon, said |, "but
this little grave has been an object of
much wonder to me, and, seeing you
here, l thought perhaps you might
know and could explain it."
II can't tell We nothin' about it, he
replied, in brusque voice, looking
across the prairie with an air that
plainly told he considered me an in
truder.
1 said nothing. but, taking the
bunch of flowers 1 had in the wagon,
! laid them by the cross and started
away.
"Hold up, stranger! Are you the
chap as has been putin them flowers
on the kids gravep'
bowed.
He caught my hand and shook it
warmly
Il beg your pardon. I thought you
was some O them fellers Che waved
his hand towards Skytown) as was
nosin' round out % curiosity like
You're different people--I see it now,
an I'll tell We bout the kid if you'd
like to hearp"
thanked him and he told the story.
Every body called her the kid.
At the Il. X ranch she didn't go by no
other name and they called her 'Joe's
Kid from Mingersville to the Mussle-
shell, Purtiest little gal you ever see.
Bout five year old. with curly. yaller
hair an blue eyes, an was always
smilin' an laughin.' She was always
around with Joe-seemed to take to
him MORN to any of the others and
many ride they had together, Joe on
his broncho and the kid in front OF
him. An Joe was just as careful OF
her as a woman could a been. l tell
We, stranger, it don't seem as If that
little gal was dead"
Unwittingly q tear coursed down
the rancher's bronzed cheek. He
paused minute, coughed and con-
tinued:
''She came to us in this way: A
Teller from the East came out to Min
gersville to herd sheep for Frank
Smith. He was a cultivated kind of a
Teller, neat an tidy bout his language
an his clothes, an no kind OF chap
at all for a sheep herder. but he was
melancholy and disconsolate like about
some of his doin's in the States an
came out to Montanny to forget all
about it. Well. be brought the kid
with him. The gal was his daughter
she want more'n two or three year
old then, an they went right out to
ore O. Smiths lonesomest stations
where they couldn't see no one but the
chap as brought their rations an mail,
an they couldn't see him more'n once
month. l tell We, stranger, it's aw.
FIJI lonesome! Lots o sheep herdcrs
go crazy an some Kills themselves.
We'll. this teller stuck to it. an by n
by Joe dropped in ON him an saw