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Updated: May 10, 2025
"It was well known that they were not on the best of terms," said her visitor discreetly. I do not know what has possessed me since I began to write this story. I have grown tired of this river, where the trout are always shy, and more tired than ever of Colonel Hoylake's fishing stories and his obituary reflections. The place is haunted for me by the tragic image of Gabrielle Hewish.
Let the lover of melody look over the list of works published, in the obituary of that beautiful composer! But I find, were I to run through, as I proposed, all the songs peculiar to my hero, I should, most likely, tire my reader. The delight with which I dwell upon them is a species of egotism; I will therefore only name a few more, and "leave him alone with his glory."
A long obituary notice followed, concluding with the following paragraph: "It is given out that the marriage of the present Earl with Lady Granton has been postponed and that, after the necessary business formalities have been attended to, Captain Harry will join his regiment in Egypt for a short term.
His business is to load and shoot, stand picket, videt, etc., while the officers sleep, or perhaps die on the field of battle and glory, and his obituary and epitaph but "one" remembered among the slain, but to what company, regiment, brigade or corps he belongs, there is no account; he is soon forgotten.
Do you suppose that that poor fellow there, who this moment perhaps caught by the whale-line off the coast of New Guinea, is being carried down to the bottom of the sea by the sounding leviathan do you suppose that that poor fellow's name will appear in the newspaper obituary you will read to-morrow at your breakfast? No: because the mails are very irregular between here and New Guinea.
But what place has an obituary in a truthful tale of adventure and mystery! Reginald Paynter was dead. His body had been found beside the road just outside the city limits at mid-night by a party of automobilists returning from a fishing trip. The skull was crushed back of the left ear.
Nobody ever heard from them again until Jim Gardner's second cousin on his father's side sent a paper with Sarah Grey's obituary in it. And now, after twenty-five years, Evelina's come back. "The poor soul's just sittin' there, in all the dust and cobwebs. When I get time, I aim to go over there and clean up the house for her 't ain't decent for a body to live like that.
He will be reared, probably, in an atmosphere where all thought that leads to no practical end is despised, or gets, at most, a perfunctory compliment when some great man who in the teeth of opposition has won to a European reputation is duly rewarded with a title or an obituary column in The Times.
No man in the column was more popular. He hastened to tell Lieutenant Sibley, his friend. Lieutenant Sibley was glad. Other officers asked him what kind of an obituary they should write for him. Captain E. E. Wells, of Troop E the Sibley troop only remarked, without a smile: "Orderly, bring Mr. Finerty a hundred rounds of Troop E ammunition." This sounded like business, to Reporter Finerty.
There are some incidents not immediately connected with the subject that might be omitted, but I think it best to present the obituary in full: Died, in Bellefonte, at the residence of Edward C. Humes, on Sunday morning, the 30th of May A. D. 1875, Mrs. Lucy Potter, relict of Hon. William W. Potter, deceased, aged eighty-four years, nine months, and two days. Mrs.
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