The Montgomery tribune. (Montgomery City, Mo.) 1892-1910, 1904-05-20
4 CITY or "reminiscences.

City cemetery. With its beautiful
grassy hillside, little brook, trees
and shrubbery of varied kinds and
sizes; vaults, monuments and
tom bstones OF different designs and
colors, some dating back to 1850,
and others so nearly eiiaced by
time and weather as to make them
almost unrcadablc as they stand
like sentinels guarding this city Of
The dead. Then the innumerable
flowers, choice In their colors and
fragrant with perfumes song birds
among the trees and In the air, all
seeming to vie with each other In
one grand chorus. And the sun
shone so bright and warm,
the brcczcs waited so gently-and
all was still, save the ringing of a
church bell half a mile distant
Was anything more delightful
Then to think OF the human forms
there buried-so many of them
once so loving, noble and brave,
no. forever at rest, and without n
care, pain OF sorrow. Relatives
and friends OF many of these were
there decorating the graves with
little tokens Of loving regard. All
of us are not situated so they
can enjoy these little comforts Of
heart and mind; some have little
graves to think about in other
cemeteries many miles away
Some people dislike to visit a cem-
otcry. And why so? Perhaps II
In because they have no loved ones
there.
40 why should III. spirit ~ mortal bc proud :
lake "a swift dying meteor, u fast Tying cloud.
A Hash ~ the lightning, brenk of the wayc,
han passeth from lie To r,si In the grave"
What n mass OF thoughts, remi-
nisccnses and prospects lie buried
In every graveyard. The present,
past and future are there all jumb-
led together. We read the inscrip-
tions upon the tombstones and find
many of them were the fathers and
mothers and other relatives of
present residents here; many OF
them were buried so long ago that
even their bones must have crum-
bled TO dust. Many of them
died before large majority
of the present residents of Mont
gomery City were born, and the
place was but mere prairie ham
let. How singular these things
seem. and to think that all of us
must soon die, and be buried in the
same manner. Several of them
were old soldiers, and perhaps
killed In battle or died in some far
away hospital and were brought
home to be buried beside their
friends. 1t Ia long story, and no
one can write the concluding chap
ters. The ministers who pronoun-
ced the last sad rites perhaps told
all that was necessary. II there is
anything more, 1t is recorded on
high.
A hundred years hence, how soon
It is gone, and this world will be
inhabited by people not yet born,
The world will be here, and the
same sun will rise and set as II
does today; the flowers bloom and
birds sing. Other men and women
will be here, but most OF US will be
forgotten. And there will bs
homes here, and cheerful, loving
fresides, and there will be com
mon hope OF the hereafter without
q common fear. Love will b'
here, and love is the only bow OF
life's dark cl' I'd. Will we meet II
that other wo-ld an impenetrabl'
wall, or will it be an open door
with loved ones to welcome us In
Whu can tell
''sotbe multitude goes. like the Hover OF weed
That withers away tn let Others succeed;
No the multitude comes. even those who behol
To repeat every tale that has often been tol'
For we are the same our fathers have been;
We see the same sights our fathers have seen
We drink the same stream, we see the same su
Aud run the same course our fathers have rui