The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-11-01


space as her deceased husband who had
led an honorable life.
"What'd you mean by old Bartonhimer
ben an earnest seeker after the truth"
she demanded severely.
''Oh, come, now" Serena answered calm
~. 81 had to say somethin' that sounded
fine, after the family askin' me over. and
givin' me front seat at the funeral. and
place in the carriage TO the funeral, but
lowed everybody would know / meant his
everlastin' meddlin', tryin' to pry into other
folkses business, for he always was the
nosest old meddler, but when folks dies
you've just got to fix things up nice"
Mrs. Burgomire explained this TO the
other neighbors, and peace was restored at
the Cross Roads.
The following Sunday was the fourth Sun
day in the month, and consequently
"preachin' day. at the Cross Roads, and
Elder Simons delivered a powerful sermon
on the subject of appreciation. He urged
upon his flock the duty of showing kindness
to the living instead of heaping flowers upon
the sod that covered them after death. The
sermon moved many to tears, but it moved
Serena Blakemore to a new use OF her gift.
She reasoned that If 1T were better to give
] the flowers to the living. it would certainly
be better for her to give her writeups and
poems as tokens of appreciation. On Mon
day morning she bent over her washtub
she cast about in her mind for suitable
| person on whom to try her experiment. At
| last she decided on the Widow Burgomire.
She was growing feeble of late. and it might
be good plan to hurry up her roses.
| The old woman had lived hard life, los
| ing a large family. one by one. She and
| her husband had struggled along under the
weight of doctors bills and funeral ex-
| renses until at last one day he had laid
! down his end Of the burden, and she had
bravely taken it UP alone. She wove rag
carpets for all the Cross Roads people,
sitting all day long, bang, banging at the
old loom, with a weary, patient look on her
| faded face that called to Serena's mind a
| long article, vivid in description of the toll
and suffering so patiently borne. This was
| followed by a tribute in hating rhyme, for
| Martha Burgomire was a hard name to
| rhyme with In the first stanza Serena
| spoke Of her touchingly as having lost her
f! hearts desire, and in the second stanza she
was described as passing through Affections
| fire. Serena did not think il appropriate to
say that her subject had at one time been a
| high flyer, and had at sundry times aroused
| her neighbors' ire, so she concluded with
the mournful thought that the dear old soul
would soon be called up higher.
She sent her effort to The County Demo-
Graf. knowing Mrs. Burgomire to be a sub
scrber, and then waited anxiously for the
| result. She was more than pleased with
her first attempt at throwing flowers at the
living, for Mrs. Burgomire wept copiously
| when she came to thank her for the tribute,
and the neishbors aroused by the sermon
and the novel obituary. fairly stumbled over
| each other in their anxiety to do something
for this estimable woman who was soon
to be called from their midst. They sent
In dainty breakfasts. dinners and suppers,
and kept her window gorgeous with huge
flower pots. After a time they noticed that
the sound of the loom had ceased, and Mrs.
| Burgomire sat sedately in her one rockin,
chair, clad in her one Sunday dress of
shabby alpaca, reading and rereading her
obituary, even committing the touching lines
to memory.
She refused the loads of carpet rags that
were brought to her as the busy season
came on, saying that she was unable TO
work: that hers had indeed been hard life
and that it was now drawing to close She
began TO put uppish airs. which the
neighbors resented and the meals no longer
came in, nor was she welcomed heartily al
her neghbors' board. Her little garden
was neglected and overrun with weeds the
rent on her house was unpaid. and at last
there came day when she received notice
to vacatc. and John Biakemore, the town
ship trustee, received notice to take her oui
to the county poorhouse that provided foi
the destitute and homeless.
When John Blakemore returned from the
trip he said angrily 10 his wife: 'S'rene,
hope thisll break you OF writin. You've
made fool and pauper out'n sensible
hard workin' old woman by that hurried III
obituary. 1 lowed Martha Burgomire would
"a felt the disgrace OF goin' TO the county
house, but she set popped up there in the
wagon with her hands crossed, lookin' for
all the world like the pictures OF them mar
tyrs in the pictorial Bible. II you'll take m,
advice you'll quit right now, if it's goin' {,
have that effect on folks"
Serena had borne brayely the writings o.
, her neighbors on the subject OF writing
obituaries before time for them, but thi.
from John was the last straw, and shs
sobbed noisily for a time. then wlping lel
sns piping black eyes. she retorted angrily
''rll never quit Ii, John Blakemore I'll no
bury the talent the Lord has given me- bu
, after this I'll be sure they're dead ans
, buried before write 'em up."