Bisbee daily review., 1903-11-15
TOMBSTONE.

Tombstone. Tombstone, around whicl
 clusters the giamor and romance O
 days long fled, when the sky wa
 sabiaze with its fame as the throne O
 the mining king and the fountain o
 1eroic and sensational literature
 Where the aggregated gallantry O
 thousands of the sons of the west wa.
 savished on a score of painted spectre,
 who frequented the loud. glittering re
 sorts in the original, the only Tomb
 stone, in the days of 'S3
 The dismantled monuments of hel
 ancient glory, like the petrified forest
 snail stand for generations. Even tn,
 advancing foot of modern progress
 snail respect them as the lowly na
 nves of the frigid peninsula bow be
 oore the sacred totem pole, and the
 new shall not be raised upon the ash.
 es of the old.
 The dilapidated hoist house, the
 nome of bats and the lair of coyotes
 soli stands as the unwreathed monu-
 1ent to the ancient glory of that tre-
 nendous invasion which followed
 9pon the heels of the gory Apache. 2 There is a commingling of the hu
 norous and the pathetic in contem.
 plating those old days It should be re.
 membered that the vendetta and feuG which populated the grave of Tomb stone was confined to a certain class.
 The plain miner who went about his '1Aiiy duties and never attached him. self to faction was as safe ss a babe A . cradle, provided he wore a boiler afon overcoat to ward of stray shots. \ complete. elaborate and accurate portrayal of facts. scenes and condi. stons which existed in those days days would put Ned Buntlin to shame.
 This task will be undertaken in the near future.
 Even to this day it is claimed that <ne Mexicans are dry washing for bul- aets in the innumerable little draws and washes around Tombstone.
 A forest of hoists and mills and sacks. and weed covered dumps, is 1Aoout the saddest sight that a busI. ness man can contemplate. where rust and dust combine tO intensity the story of departed greatness. anl it is ! source of rare qualification to the people of Cochise that the grand old cAnp is once more awaking
 70 less impressive than crumbling aotsts and caving shafts. is the city of ene dead. Nothing recalls the past more vividly than to Salk across that sacred ground, dedicatH to those gone before. and whose virtues are
 written upon the tables of love and memory" by those who each succeel- sng day, reflect that THEY are one cay nearer home. This holy ground recalls the magnitude of the phenome- nal camp of Tombstone in it's prime, when as a city of 12.0O0 people. it con- ssftuted the Mecca of the fortune seeker, the paradise of the gambler. the most enticing theater for the bau man, and the center Of romance for he novelist. in this city of the dead, 'nousands have laid cown burdens brought from the remotest parts of l the globe. From the daisy bespaDgied mead | ows of old England, from the banks l of the historic Rhine. from the far 1eids that border the romantic Oar | abe. from the frozen yteeppas of Rus sia- from the golden nests of Aus tralia and the sunny .:lCpes of the Si- | era Madres. even rom the jungles of lDdia- the diamond studded breast of Africa. the hungry hills of Scandina- '1a and from out the shadow of the wsn Of ConfuciUs, human beings have >1me and laid their bones together. The honored pioneer is there with monuments to commem- )rate his noble attributes and the af- .ection which follows him in thought 10 the great beyond The plain mi Der who laid down his hammer at he summons of the divine superln- eDdent to come on top" he is -nere. resting as peacefully as t--e mining baron who emp,oyed him. anc the loveliness or womanh cd, and he sweetness of childhood. and the innocence of infancy. are intermingled D this city of everlasting peace. And he reve.ent ard thoughtful man is here. along with the man whose l.fe { YRS one intending scene of violence. 1gedy and crime. and the unnamed lead are there in multitudes, and many are the lowiy ulcared for spots , Eithin those sacred precincts. upon , mich if faithful mother cnly knew. he would plant the flowers of ineffa- {, ze love, and water with her tears.
 
 .soTious maturity. And the plucky I port who called the grim reaper on I he last turn and lost, is there, and ( hose blasted blossoms of womanhood [ those tarnished specimens of what f zee was the rarest samples of Gods ,ost gracious handy work, they are ', here. And who can estimate the yony this little square of Mother arth has witnessed. as each and ev- ry denizen of this silent city was ! ,wered to his resting place whiie c sars were flowing. and heart strings y ere breaking b The Tombstone girl has only one r unit, she Is too scarce. Reared and disco in the midst of flowers and and song birds she is pale : nd sweet as a lump of taffy on the nd Of a slate pencil. I never got 0 carer than a hundred yards of one U nt 1 observed that she made a track ? bout like that of the Bisbee belle 2 n<f I think if sne would import a A Ailoon full of our sulphur smoke to il Ithe in and saw a few armfu.-s G. n ooi every morning before breakfast, h 'en get the breakfast, put out a wash R. mend the fence ane scrub cut the AH every day, she would In course of me become real stout. s
 The masculine society of Tomb b