The morning call., 1890-07-06
A CEMETERY ROMANCE.
The Fatal Termination of Freak
of a Young Girl.

@kOWN near one Of the southern cities
fSHy where the flowers bloom nearly all
DS the year round, and the OriOle builds
his nest and calls to his mate to come, for
the home is prepared. is cemetery famous
for its beauty. says the Ladies' Home Jour
nal Years ago it was the country-place of
a very rich man; he was widower with
beautiful daughter and three handsome
sons The daughter was sweet girl, idol
lied 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 friends house this pretty Juliet met
and grew TO know her Romeo. Naturally
enough they fell in love with each other,
vowed eternal constancy, 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 bitter and more bitter,
and the two sweethearts found it very diff
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 going out in her
own clothes, and so, in 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 sweet
heart would be surprised. A long, old
fashioned cloak was thrown over her, and
a broad brmmed, soft felt hat crowned her
head AS she went over the hill one of h er
brothers saw her and told his father that
he believed some one from the next place
was OIL their grounds, possibly to kill some
of their dogs or poison their horses. Very
quickly the old man rushed to the veranda,
armed with a gun. He saw the figure
moving along swiftly. but he took aim,
aim so sure that it struck his own
hart and firnd Roth mn 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 wss carried back to the house, dead
not able to speak her forgiveness to her
father, or give word of love TO her sweet
heart. The scene can be easily imagined.
The lover upbraided the father, but the
younger brother said: LAS she lies here
let her be the peacemaker. She loved you
in life; let us care for each other because
of her death" So she was buried near her
old 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 the express proyiso 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 fitful fever she
sleeps we'll" Near by 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 ali is the little gravestone
raised to the memory of the unfortunate
girl who died because of her love.