THERE ARE NO GRAVES THERE!
{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": "BY NJ. q. SLEEPER."}
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| Late in the afternoon Of a beautiful sum
mer day, entered quiet grave yard
where slept one Of my dearest friends. |
occupied the brow Of a hill, which, with
many q knoll and graceful undulation slop-
ed to the green meadow, watered BY win
ding stream, now catching, at its repeated
curves, the rays of the setting sun. yl


On the left was pleasant wood where
the sturdy pine and fruit bearing beach con-
cealed narrow paths to cool coves and mos
sy banks. yag \. 9., e8.. sa.,


White birches and the tremulous aspen,
with the sweet scented willow grew upon
the right, and, from beyond, rose the curl
ing smoke from the cottage homes. A ro-
bin sang its song of love and praise SPAR
row passed me bearing food for its little
progeny, and the chirp Of the merry grass
hopper mingled with the hum of hundreds
Of fitting insects +.


" But for this peace, breathing scene | had
no greeting. The wild storm, thunder,
and rain, and darkness, had seemed far more
welcome, and yielding utterly to my grief,
threw myself upon the sod. | took no
heed Of time, but many minutes had passed
when child approached me. She looked
on me tenderly for an instant, and then lay
ing one hand upon my arm and raising the
other towards heaven, said earnestly n


"There are no graves there"


There was something almost seraphic in
the countenance Of the child, d power of
earth in quick and undoubting faith. My
eye sought the blue depths towards which
she pointed, my heart bounded towards the
infinite. All the representations Of the Cos
pei, adapted as they are to soothe and cheer,
came to me so vivid, so truthful, so full of
meaning, that they absorbed my whole soul.
The abundant promises seemed to glow
with the hues of that heaven from whence
they came AT once perceived the self
ishness of my sorrow, and kneeling, thank
ed God that He had transferred my loved
one to Himself ~..' ...ti -.''


Often, since then, Ihave looked upon the
resting places of my kindred; often, has
there come over me sense of utter hope
less desolation; often has an agony like that
Of death, turned to bitterness the continued
blessings of my lot. Yet, when the first
burst Of grief has passed, ! see again that
lovely child, and hear the soul-cheering as
surance-~ as@a s#M saa H3 H


"There are no graves there ~