Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1890-06-26

no fuss made, no church funeral, no
gravestuns. Jest plant me out here in
the woods somewhar-at the foot of
some big pine. hain't no kin as #ould
keer for me. dead OF alwe-an I allus
sleep better in the woods, anyhow
He paused again, FAINT and weak
from his efforts to talk. Big John held
a small flask Of spirits to his lips and
he revived,
Il want ye to say little shthin at
the plantin parson, he said, presently.
II don't want NO sugar coatin' nor
nothin O thcS sort, but yoh kin Jest
say and say it truthful, too, tibet | never
went back on no fricnd-not once.
Thet's why I'm here, boys-here in the
pine ~oods-dying away from my kin
Jest becarse--I stood by friend
when he and his voice sank to an
indlstinguishable whisper.
"Whar are your relations, Joe," ask
Ell TIE parson, in husky tone, as he
bent over the suffercr-"ain't thar no
one We want us to write to"
NO." gaspcd Joe; "I've been-dead
to them-twenty years.
A spasm Of pain crossed his face, lIis
head sank back and death forever SEAL
ed the mystery Of his life.
We buried him, as he had requested,
deep in the forest at the foot of an
enormous pine. Over the open grave
Parson Griggs paid homely but touch.
ing tribute to the virtues OF his dear
friend, and then knelt in prayer beside
the rude coffin.
"Oh, Lord" he ssld 1--WE commend
to Thy mercy the spirit that went out
yesterday through the gate of death
into the unknown land that lies beyond.
Thou knoweet that our friend was not
considered us bein' praym man, but
we who knew him best feel sure that
his heart prayed when his lips made no
sound' He made no profession. but we
believe that Thou wilst judge him by
the testimony of his acts rather than
that Of his mouth. Like Him they
crucifed, he died to save others. Like
Him, too, lie went through life doin'
good. His ear was never deaf to the
voice Of trouble. He clothed the naked,
fed the hungry an visited the sick. No
night was so dark, no storm so fierce,
no road so rough, as to keep him from
the side of the sutferin an the needy.
lie was every mans brother. OF all
who hev come here to honor him thar ls
not one whose load he has not sometime
made little lighter. We bury here
the worthless husk that hid the golden
grain of goodness. May we who stay
behind larn the lessons that his life an
death should teach. May the seeds of
kindness that he scattered all through
this forest wilderness blossom in tempt.
ed souls an bear fruit fit Tor Thy
kingdom; an to Thy name shall be all
The glory. Amen
Three days later, returning from
hunting excursion, the parson and I
passed Fiddler Joe's grave. AS we
ncarcd the spot we saw Big John stand.
ing by the tall pine which was Joe's
monument. He had hewn a sort of
tablet on the side of the tree and stood
regarding it as we came up.
He didn't want us to get him no
gravestun, an l thort thar ort to be
somethln' more'n tree to mark the
grave of the whitest man that eyer
struck these larts,' said John, as he
hastily passed his sleeves across his
eyes. 'Taint no very han some job he
continued. alphabetically, 'but twas
The best knowed how to do
Upon the tablet rudely carved with
IL pockct-knife was the following
inscription:
FIDDLER 10 CURTISS,
Died Nov. rs, A. D. 1885, aige Is.
Tie Uas a wh'tc man from his butes.
40 sL.i4 H. Lr:., I1,ui.a !,