Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1889-08-28

Vile and children that he would 40
better, and ! think he tries, but It is.
so hard. :"
In q few moments, for It was but a
short distance, we reached the SOM
Der prick building, and were taken
into cell, where, on a pallet under a
haring gas-jet, with the oaths and
cries OF drunken men and women
sounding from the cells around, and
the gray shadow of death resting on
his haggard and unshaven face, lay
the stranger of the cemetery.
+ 1--WE sent for you, Miss Pennel." said
the sergeant, who sat beside him,
because he has mentioned your name
several times in his raving, and we
thought you might be able to tell us
what We can not find out from him,
who he is, and where his friends may
be foundv'
Miss Abbie shook her head sadly.
II wish could, but never saw him
but once, and that only few days ago.
he spoke of having lived here, and
that he knew a friend of mine who
had been dead many years, but he did
not tell me his name, or where he was
FROM No." bending over him with a
long, searching look at his FACET
am quite sure that it is no one I ever
saw till then.''
The sound of her voice aroused the
dying man from the partial stupor
he had sunken into, and he opened his
eyes.
They say you have asked for me,
my poor man." she said; lis there any
thing can do for your"
He moved his lips, as though trying
to speak. But the power of speech
was passed; the faint sound died away
in an articulate murmur. With look
in them eager and wistful, he lifted
his eyes to the face above him. so full
of tender pity, and made an effort to
raise one of his hands, as if to touch
hers. Miss Abbie saw the notion
slight as it was, and took the icy
fingers in her close, warm clasp. And
so, with his hand in hers, and his last
look of earth into her true and gentle
eyes. the soul of the nameless wan
derer passed into the presence of the
All-Merciful as we'll as the Adjust.
''How pitiful!" exclaimed Miss Ab-
bic, in broken voice, as we walked
homeward through the quiet streets.
"And very likely there is some woman
somewhere who loves him. No doubt
when he tried so hard to speak, it was
to give me a message for her, and now
she will never know"
We were passing along the side of
the old cemetery, and as we reached
the arched gateway, she said: LET us
go in for moment
How peaceful it was in the abode OF
the dead, with the white marbles and
the shadows of the silver naples fleck.
ing the low mounds! The still air was
heavy with fragrance, and when we
paused at young Randall's grave, the
| white rose at its head was heavy with
blossoms as we'll as dew.
Miss Abbie stopped down and laid
her hand with a caressing touch on the
thick, soft sward.
II have always felt" she said
TREMENDOUSLY. "that my grief was bit.
ter one, and nobody knows how lonely
these long years have been, but as ]
stood by that poor man tonight, an6
thought of Malcolm as he was then
taken from me, so pure and true and
| light, how blessed my sorrow was be.
side that of women who have to see
the men they love lost to them by the
separation of wrong and shame. wide,
and worse than that of death.
! ''He said Malcolm knew him." sht
continued, after moment; '+perhap!
befriended him in the days when, le
US hope, he was different from wha
we saw. Because of that, and for thu
sake of the wife or mother, who may
have loved him through it all, would
like to have him buried here, instead
of in the potter's field"
So it was that in that green and quie
spot we laid the nameless dead to rest
Aud, as through the long summer days
Miss Abbie came and went, I would
often see her pause in her ministry OF
love to plant a flower or lay blossom
on that other grave, whose headstone
besides the date of his death, bore only
the words: "A Stranger. The Home
Maker.
Time to Reform the Calendar.
! An ingenious Yankee, with an eye tc
adjusting himself to his environments