Daily independent. [volume] (Elko, Nev.) 188?-1915, 1913-08-07

| Tie puSlClOn OF DellD0y In q hotel
he rose to be- celebrity of world
vide fame. RELY Grammar was one
of the greatest plungers the con-
tinent has produced. He died day
before yesterday at Rawhide.
THAT is brief statement. We
have his birth and the day Of his
demise. Who can fill the interim?
Not l. Who can tell his hopes and
fears? Who knows the mystery Of
his quiet hours? Not 1.
Born admid brooks and rivers
of sunny Kentucky. He died in
Rawide. That is the beginning.
That is the end. Is there in this
a picture of what Ingersoll said
at the grave uf his brother.
Whether it be near the shore, or
in mid ocean. or among the break
ers at the last, a wreck NUT mark
the end of one and all.
Born where brooks and rivers
run musically through prolific soil.
where magnolia gladifora, like
white stars, glow in a armament
Of green, where lakes the gr3ens-
ward and the suftest summer
breezes dimple the wavelets, where
the air is resonant with the melody
of a thousand sweet voiced birds
and rRdolent of the perfume of
blooming flowers, that was the be-
ginning. Riley Grammar died in
Rawhide, where in winter the tops
of the mountains are clothed in
garments of ice and in the summer
the blistering rays of the sun bea.s
down upon the skeleton of the de-
sert.
Is there in this a picture of uni
versal life? Sometimes, when /
look upon the circumstances of
life there comes to my lips a curse,
l relate to you only my views. II
these run counter to yours, Relieve
what l say is sincere. When | see
the ambitions of a man defeated,
when / see him struggling with
mind and body to accomplish this
end, when l see his aim and pur-
pose frustrated only by fortutious
combination of circumstances over
which he can exert no control
when | see his outstretched hands
about to grasp the flag of victory
and to sieze instead the emblem
Of defeat l ask, What is life?
Dreams awakening, death. Life is
a pendulum betwixt q smile and
a tear. Life is but momentary
halt within the waste and then the
nothing we set out from. Life is q
shadow. poor player that struts
and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more. Life
is a tale told by an idot, full nf
sound, signifying nothing. Life is a
child blown bubble that but reflects
the shadows Of environment and is
gone, mockery, sham, lie. a
fools vision, its happiness, but Dead
Sea apples, its pains and crunching
of n tyrant heel. Omar says it
better when he says 1--WE are but a
moving row of magic shadow
shapes that come and go, around
with a sunny Illuminated lantern
held in midnight for the master
Of the shore but helpless pieces of
the game we play on this checker
board of night and day; hither
and thither moved or checked or
slaves, and one by one back into
the closet laid. The ball no ques-
ton makes of eyes or nose, but
here or thece as strikes of the
player, goes. But he that tossed
you down into the field; He knows,
he knows, He knows, but don't.
That's my mood. Not so with Riley
Grammar.
"If | have guaged his character
correctly he accepted the circum-
stances, surrounding him as. the
mystic official to whom the univer-
sal had delegated its whole office
aa., aa.a:..L. L.. IL L.--I. = /.