Los Angeles herald., 1890-09-15
THE ROMANCE OF A CEMETERY
A Touching Story of How One Girls
Death United Long Time Enemies.

A Touching Story of How One Girls
Death United Long Time Enemies.
Down near one of the southern cities,
where the flowers bloom nearly all the
year round, and the oriole builds his nest
and calls to his mate to come to him, for
the home is prepared, is cemetery famous
for its beauty. Years ago it was the coun-
try place of a very rich man; he was a
widower, with a beautiful daughter and
three handsome sons. The daughter was
sweet girl, idolized by her father, which
affection she more than reciprocated. A
bitter family feud existed between the
father and his nearest neighbor, who had
but one child-a son. At a friends house
this pretty Juliet met and grew to know
her Romeo. Naturally enough, they fell
in love with each other, vowed eternal con-
stancy and thought that in time the
fathers of each might be won over by their
children and induced to give consent to
the marriage. But the old men grew Bit
ter and more bitter, and the two sweet
hearts found it very difficult to see each
other
One summer night the little lady had an
appointment with her lover at the foot of
the hill that was just in front of her home.
The moon was so bright that she dreaded
spirit of frolic, she had her maid hunt up
some of her brothers clothes and into
them she got, laughing as she thought
how her sweetheart would be surprised
A long, old fashioned cloak was thrown
over her, and broad brimmed, soft felt
hat crowned her head. AS she went over
the hill one of her brothers saw her, and
told his father that he believed some one
from the next place was on their grounds,
possibly to kill some of their dogs or poison
their horses. Very quickly the old man
rushed to the veranda armed with gun.
He saw the figure moving along swiftly,
but he took aim, aim so sure that it struck
his own heart, and fired. Both arms went
up in the air, the figure staggered and fell
over Hearing the shot, the waiting lover
rushed to see what was the matter. In the
meantime the others had gathered round
The hat had fallen off the pretty head
which it had disguised, and there, pure and
white, under the light of the moon, was
revealed to the brothers the face of their
own sister. She was carried back to the
house, dead-not able to speak her forgive
ness to her father, or give a word of love to
her sweetheart. The scene can be easily
imagined. The lover upbraided the father,
bnt the younger brother said: "As she lies
here let her be the peacemaker. She loved
you in life; let us care for each other be-
cause of her death" So she was buried
near her own home, and all the people for
miles around, knowing of her tragic death,
came to show their respect and to line and
cover her grave with the blossoms which
she had loved in her life.
The beautiful country place was sold
with an express proviso that it was to be
made cemetery. The brothers and the
father and lover all went away and never
came back until each was brought there to
be laid to rest near the one they had loved
Now the city of the dead numbers among
its people Elizabeth Patterson Bonaparte
who has engraved on the granite bearing
her name, after life's titful fever she
sleeps we'll" Nearby is the tomb of the
Booth family, and that of Reinhart, the
sculptor, who died when fame had made
his name household word, is not far off.
There are crosses erected to the memory of
little children; there are tablets that tell
of those who have lived and loved suffered
and toiled. But to them who know most
interesting of all is the little gravestone
raised to the memory of the unfortunate
girl who died because of her love-Ladies'
Home journal.