The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1905-08-31
IN MEMORY OF ERNEST MOSS.

IN MEMORY OF ERNEST MOSS.
The recent death of Ernest Moss,
who two weeks ago, was snatched
from us by the cruel hand of fate, de-
mands tribute from the writer that
must be paid. Though beautiful
eulogy has been offered by an un-
known friend in Jackson and we know
that nothing better could be said, yet
we feel, that we too, owe something
to the hallowed memory of our noble
friend and though our mind seems
paralyzed and refuses to express the
feelings of our heart, yet we write in
feeble way, that the world may
know how Fannin mourns his loss.
We have lost friends and loved ones,
but never in the history of our quiet
little village has one, so dear to every
heart, been torn asunder in cruel
tragedy like this. Oh, God! can we
ever forget the message that went like
a dagger to every heart: Ernest
Moss lies mortally wounded on the
counter Of his little store.' Can we
ever forget the sorrow depicted on
every face as his relatives and many
friends gathered round him. Every
kindness shown him was accompanied
by prayer begging God to spare his
young life. Truly, Ernest counted his
friends by the score. He had always
proven loyal to them, and at the last
hour when he lay with his life. blood
ebbing away they stood and gazed,
with love in their hearts upon his
handsome face, all paled and drawn
with pain, and when the last breath
left his manly form alias one big
family-broke down and wept. How
every heart went out in sympathy
to the bereaved relatives. The bro
ken hearted sister, and brothers-and
to that faithful sweetheart, whose very
life was wrapped up in his own. All!
who-save God-can ever know the
anguish of that lonely heart. But
all is over! The awful tragedy is
ended, the last scene in the horrible
play has been enacted and nothing
save desolate homes and aching hearts
are left us. It has all passed like an
awful dream and with it has passed
from Tearth to eternity our friend,
Ernest. Yes, he has gone, our be-
reaved hearts echo the word, gone ;and
let US try to blot from our mem cries
forever the way in which he left US,
and think only of the many happy
associations enjoyed with him, and of
the many virtues he possessed. His
character was Of the most exalted ma
ture. He had no faults-but
falkland that fault, though
grievious it was, never lost for him a
friend. He was the soul of honor.
If he ever committed an error that
wounded the feelings Of his fellow
man, the first impulse of his noble
heart was to make amends. There
was something strikingly elegant in
his manners and appearance; and few
that knew him will forget the pleas
ing and intellectual countenance
uron which our eyes shall rest no
longer. He was always bright and
cheerful. The staunchest friend of
his young companions, and amid their
pleasures he will be missed more than
any where on earth. There will ever
be missing link in our chain Of
friends; a missing chord in our vii.
lage music, and an aching void in oul
lonely hearts. Ills hard to realize
that those bright eyes are closed and
the rich music Of that voice is hushed
forever. But tbs true our dear friend
Ernest has passed away, and born
with him to the grave many fond
regret. We know that in coming
years the memory Of him will oft
break upon as like CLEAN from the
past, and our weeping hearts will
sigh. We will often linger round his
tomb and with tender hands deck his
grave with flowers, while subdued
sorrow will let fall from our eyes the
unaffected tear of affection. Peace to
his noble ashes.
A FRIEND.