Custer chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, Black Hills, D.T. [S.D.]) 1880-1890, 1889-11-09
I'm Shot


!: / F.:
I'm Shot
Ii was in the Grafton cemetery that
we found one of the very oldest OF our
stones. 1t was in three sections. two
large stones with a smaller one in the
middle. On one of the large stones
was an angels head, with Sits for the
eyes, nose and mouth, and two enor-
nous feathered wings growing from the
side Of its head, at the place where the
ears should have been. On the small
stone was an exact copy OF this in NINA
ture, and on the other large stone was
a weeping willow tree, with twelve
branches. at the end of each branch,
hanging like a great, round apple, being
a cherub's head, in the typical unadorned
and unconnected style of the very early
pioneers in the art of carving tomb
stones. The small stone was sacred to
the memory of Thomas Parke. Jr.; one
of the larger stones was in Of
Mrs. Thomas Parke, Sr.. and the other
was sacred to the memory Of her twelve
infant children. The inscription read:
Stranger, pause as you pass by;
Ny thirteen children with me lie
See their faces how they shine
Like blossoms on a fruitful vine.
The story runs that AN old slave of
Thomas Parke, ST., had been promised
his freedom, and, not obtaining it. died
cursing his then youthful master, and
praying that his children might die be-
fore they were grown. All died in in
fancy, and only Thomas, Jr.. reached
his second year; but whether the slaves
curse had anything 10 do with their sad
deaths is matter of opinion rather than
of history.
In a sunny corner Of the Vernon GEM
etery lie the three wives of Mr.. Abiiah
Rogers. The first died in 1854, and her
tombstone bore the following epitaph:
Look doSu on me: slumber here;
The graves become my bed.
And think OF death, that's always near.
For LIE may quickly fade.
Five years later the second Mrs. Rogers
died, and the widower buried her in
friendly neighborkooI To the first, and,
TO avoid all appearance of partiality,
placed on her tombstone precisely the
same stanza, though dignifying the per-
sonal pronoun in the first line with a
capital letter. The third Mrs. Rogers
has a more touching epitaph than the
others.
In another graveyard was found this
ungrammatical statement carved in
stones:
My staff and stay Is took away.
And I am left alone,
NY husband desr, We AS so near.
Is took away a.: 49,.
LAMBS AT WHOLESALE.
1t was in a New Hampshire hurying
ground that were found the graves OF
eleven children. over each of which was
a marble lamb. The father of the eleven
had, after tn. death OF the seventh, it
was alleged. purchased the lambs at
wholesale. There was still one left of
the dozen he bought. the story went.
One of the Grafton epitaphs reads as
follows:
His lsnguishing head Is at rest,
Its thinking ana aching are DER.
His calm, immoyable breast
viii heave 70 iutter no mere.
1t is strange to see how some one NOR
tuary stanza would have a run, SO TO
speak, in the neighborhood. Here is a
favorite one:
Sickness sore long time I bore;
Physicians skill was yane,
Till God did send death as q frieno
To eass me Of my Pana
For modesty this Is irreproachable. II
was not seen by this party, but was
vouched for by one of the villagers:
God. do Thou TO Allen Ellen Radd
IS Allen Ellen Radd would do TO God
We're God but Allen Ellen Radd
And Allen Ellen Radd were God
A favorite coupiet is that which closes
an inscription found at a cemetery in
Vernon:
When living men my bones do view.
Remember we'll Here's room for you
Here is an epitaph that adorns the
tombstone of a wife and mother:
II in after years beside thee il. another In m5
chair,
Though her voice be sweetsr music. and her face
than mine more fai..
u q cherub call thee father. stil more beautiful
than this
Love thu little one. my husband; turn nos from
the motheriesA
To complete the story it should be SAID
that another did sit in her chair not long
sfterward, and that in time twelve little
cherubs called him father.
In Vernon this simple tale OF womanly
heroism Is simply told:
The room below famed like q stove.
Anxious Tor thoss who slept above,
She entered on the trembling door.
She fell. aha sank. she rose no more
-Brattieb0rough Vt.) Cor. New York
Sun.