The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1894-04-26
c. on the Death and Burial Subject

L
ed down to the cemetery a few days ago
wher7 thought could pass few pleasant
hours and commune with the silent dead and
speculate on the great beyond, Fate wIled
it that should meet the doctor, who was
taking the dimensions of grave. Knowing
that he was we'll posted as to the last rest
ing places of those whose memory was near
and dear to me, | sat down beside him.
Though usually OF retiring and reticent div
position found him in the best of humor
and prone to be communicative. He eY-
planned to me the formula of grave digging
and gave me pointer or Two on the best
position to lay tbs corpse so that the stifi
could get good start when Gabriel footed
his horn at the last day. We strolled be-
tween the graves. some looked old and dilapi-
tated for want of care and others betokened
recent interment. He inquired of me if |
wished to fud any particular grave, | said
that would like to find the last resting
place of an old friend of mine that had
heard filled some spot in that section.
What was his name inquired the doctor.
Billy Patterson, replied, he was struck by
some unknown hand that finished his career
and, strange to say, it was never found out
who did the deed | saw that the doctors
ire was raising to blowing off pitch, ap-
peared not to notice his anger and drawing
from my pockets recent purchase Of a ten
cent handkerchief, wiped my dimmed eyes;
at last his safety valve gave way and he
shouted hard enough to cause the dead to
think it was about time to get up, "who in
the thunder is Billy Patterson, never heard
of such man." eudeavored to explain
matters but could not get in word edge
ways. He insisted no such man ever slum-
bered in that portion Of the Potters field and
if the court knew itself he guessed he knew
for he had the planting Of all the old bum,
and stitts for the last twenty years. | saw
plainly matters had to be conciliated
and drawing from my pocket recent pur.
chase OF flask of old Rye, offered it to him
which he readily responded and judging
from the lengthy gurge it must have met
with cordial reception. He pointed out
the graves Of several talanted men and said
| his heart went out to them for were they
not kindred souls. He showed me what is
vulgarly called murderers row and wrung in
piece of poetry which he said fitted the
occasion to a dot. Each in his narrow cell
the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep"
| asked him il that was his own composition
for it was grand; he said not exactly, it was
partly quotation from Don Quixote. We
moved on and stopping suddenly he asked
me If was ever acquainted with Barney
Brannagan for there he lay, gently replied
that was not personally acquainted with
the individual, but understood that be was
considered a musician of some ability and
had composed all overture to himself, aud
his bushes. was white washing. This was
assumed purple tint and | quickly pro
duced flask, smile that was child like
and bland fitted over his qountenance as he
raised the flask 70 his lips aud when he with
drew it daylight could be ssen through
every portion OF it. He pulled from hi:
pocket what purported to be a haudkerchie
which bore more the appearance of torn
guuny sack and gently morped his heated
brow. Isuggested that We hal spent very
sorrowful afternoon aud it would ever be
remembered by me, that the air wan getting
chilly and had been cautioned to shsu tn,
night air as l was subject to corns sud
thought We had better go to town. W<
passed through the gate iato the road aud
each with bowed head bordering upon the
uncertainties of life in general and if We
should not in the near future fill some little
nook in the quiet and peaceful cemetery OIL
Phoebe. &c.