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7

THE EVENING NEWS

ALF. DOTEN, Managing Editor.

GOLD HILL, WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 1877

MEMORIAL DAY.

Its Observance on the Comstock–
Strewing Flowers over the
Graves of Union and Confed-
erate Heroes–Oration by Judge
E. W. Hillyer–Hon. H. M. Dag-
gett's Poem–The Procession–
Other Items–The Day in Gold
Hill.

The usual ceremonies of Memorial Day were observed in Virginia City to-day. The arrangements were under charge of the Order of Union and Confederate Veterans, who extended invitations to different civic and military organizations to join in the procession, which upon this particular occasion was an unusually large one.

At an early hour this morning the Stars and Stripes at half-mast became apparent all over the city, and the regular amount of enthusiasm over a reunited country was manifested by the people. It was the talk upon the street corners, and the good folk of Gold Hill and Virginia turned out in their holiday attire. The military companies were seen marching and counter-marching, and the sound of martial music was heard in the streets. These warlike sights and sounds were but as a slight reminder of the days when the opposing hosts of the North and South met in hostile array, and the joining of those strong hands is an earnest of the peace which has been sealed by the blood of myriads of brave men.
l
CONTRIBUTIONS.

Following is a list of donations of flowers, with the names of parties presenting the same: Mrs. R. Rising, one box of flowers; Mrs. J. C. Lewis, one box of flowers; Mrs. M. C. Hillyer, three packages of flowers; Mrs. E. B. Stonehill, one box of flowers; Mrs. J. C. Currie, one box of flowers; Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Lon. Hamilton, two boxes of flowers; Mrs. A. L. Meekins, one box of bouquets; Mrs. Thomas Buckner, crown of immortelles; Mrs. Gilbert Ross, one box of flowers; Mrs. Charles H. Osborne, one box of flowers; Mrs. Alice Nye, bouquets; Mrs. French, one basked of flowers; Mrs. S. J. Cooper and Miss Carrie Clark, bouquets; Mr. and Mrs. Alex G. McKinzie, one box of bouquets and wreath of flowers; Mrs. W. H. Smith, one box of flowers; Mrs. F. A. Tritle, one box of flowers; Mrs. J. C. Yong, one basked of flowers; Hon. Jonas Seely, one box of flowers.

THE PROCESSION.

Shortly after 10 o'clock the procession formed on C street, near the Odd Fellows' building, with Captain F. C. Lord as Grand Marshal and Comrade Ogden Hiles, U. S. A.., and Comrade Guy Thorpe, C. S. A., as Aids. At 11 o'clock the line moved in the following order:

Band.
Order Union and Confederate Veterans.
Surviving Mexican Veterans.
Exempt Firemen.
Pacific Coast Pioneers,
Fire Departments of Virginia and Gold Hill,
Virginia Turn-Verein.
Carriages, containing the Chaplain, Orator,
Poet and Reader.
The Choral Society.
Carriages containing Teachers of the Public
Schools.
Children of the Public Schools.
Federal, State, County and City officials.
Citizens in Carriages.

The line of march was crowded with interested spectators and the general appearance indicated that the people of Nevada, at least, have accepted Memorial Day as an occasion second only to the glorious Fourth of July.

AT THE CEMETERY.

The programme marked out by the Committee of Arrangements was carried out.

Music by the Band.
Decoration.
Music–Choral Society.
Prayer–Comrade Rev. W. R. Jenvey.
Oration–Comrade E. W. Hillyer.
Music–Choral Society
Poem, Hon. R. M. Daggett; Reader, R. H. Lindsay.
Music by the Band.
Benediction.

The music by the Choral Societdy was excellent, and Judge Hillyer's oration was listened to with interest, the speaker being frequently interrupted by bursts of enthusiastic applause. The Choral Society was composed of Mrs. Layton, Mrs. Eels, Mrs. Foster, Miss Jennie Galt, Geo H. Eels, Mr. Hull and C. L. Foster

Mr. Lindsay read the poem in fine style, adding all his power of elocution to Mr. Daggett's superb production.

ASRIK-OBEN.
All beauty-strewn, with willows bending o'er,
Where timid streams in lonesome monotone,
Low crouching under shelving banks of green,
Wind slowly past the places of the dead,
Repose the ashes of eventless lives.
They lived in peace, and so in silence rest.
No storm e'er rent the sunshine of their days,
The songs of birds, the distant plowman's voice,
The bleating herds, the mellow call of kine,
The zephyrs freight around the tombs of men
Who filled the level ranks of noiseless years,
And went to sleep worn with aching toil
That finds reward and ample recompense
In stinted comforts (asking nothing more),
And changeless faith and hope beyond the grave.

Not so the warrior lives, nor so he dies,
The griefs of others grasping as his own,
His soul attuned to music of the storm,
The silent sobs of anguish, and the tears
Of nations and of men, are by his arm
Translated into vengeance, and his sword,
A tongue of fire with eloquence of might,
Speaks peace through blood and joy through prostrate wrong.
If 'mid the clash of steel in fearless charge,
With awful voice of carnage urging on,
His dauntless soul goes out unawed, and winged
With the black breath of battle, where he falls–
His hand still clenching in its rigid clasp
The shattered standard or the broken blade–
Are laid away, trenched in the wounded earth,
His stiffened limbs, ranked with a ghastly line
Of blood stained heroes marshaled for the skies,
In rocky fastness and on mountain peak,
In forest dim with age and gloomy gorge,
Where'er the chance of battle hews him down,
There sleeps the soldier. 'Tis a fitting place.
His dust should mingle with the grand of earth,
And part become of mountain and of stream,
As was entombed the greatest of the Huns.

Not in the hell of battle sank the few
Whose mounds we come to strew with flowers to-day,
With hand impartial and with heart in tears.
By Death unchallenged passing through the gates
Of war, in peace they met the valiant shades
Of sturdy comrades stricken down n Arms
By the fierce lightning of the thund'ring charge;
And here, like warriors battle-cloaked, they rest,
Inurned upon the burnt and rocky crests
Of mountains by the first of Pluto rent,
And from the breasts of angry deserts raised,
The shimmering sands stretch eastward in the sun,
While mountain westward on the rocky steps
Of billowy peaks and canyons dark in depth,
The whitened hights, enthroned against the clouds,
Look down with changeless face on treeless plains,
Voiceless in song and smileless everywhere.

So from the ashes of the warring sons
Of stormy Huga, sepulchered in peace,
Was born the union of the Allack bands,
And brotherhood that gave them lasting strength.
Long ere the fair-haired Harold, great in arms,
(So runs the saga of a Northern scald),
Subdued the tribes of Norway and the Finns;
Before the Sea Kings and united hordes
Of sturdy Norsemen, clad in furs and steel,
Followed the sail of Rollo o'er the seam
And tribute laid on Holland and the French;
Before the son of Eric, westward bound
In search of unknown lands and fairer climes,
The sunset saw from distant Helluland;–
aye, long before, there dwelt a warlike tribe
Beside the Otra, where its widening banks
Shape through the vale a long and narrow lake.
Fair are its valleys yet, and clear and cool
Its waters, as in swift descent and wild
It pours its volume into Skager Rack,
Its current mingling with the Northern Sea.
Along the sunny borders of the lake
The Allacks lived, a brave and blue eyed tribe,
In numbers few, but with the sword and spear,
and bow and battle-ax, a fearless host.
They knew the arts as others knew them then
Their herds were many and their fields were broad.
Abundance waited on their spreading nets,
And rich in spoil the hunter homeward came.
They sought not conquest, but their rufgged arms
And ready blades defended all their own.

Their chief was Huga, grand and strong of limb,
Whose battle-ax was of the anvil's weight.
In council wise, in arms a moving tower,
He claimed descent through loins of heroes down
From god-like Sœming, and to Odin thence.
Beside a cliff, walled in with massive stone,
Were altars reared to Odin and to Thor,
And Tyr and other of the Norseman's gods;
And when in childless wedlock Huga prayed,
The answering thunders spake a dread assent,
And to his hopes and home two sons were born.
The first was Asrik; Oben next and both
To mighty manhood grew. Then Huga died,
And Oben seized the scepter and the sword.
The Allacks were divided. Asrik, right,
Had followers, and so had Oben, wrong.
Across the lake the elder eastward went,
Bearing the battle-ax of Ezron,
Which down to Huga came through a might of arm.
There, with herdsmen of the Ogran plains
And hunters from the woody hills beyond,
He raised the standard of the Allack jarls,
And builded temples to his fathers' gods
Of thunder and of war. Then Oben armed,
And up and down the Ogra bearded men,
War-visaged, sprang to arms; and sword and pike
Of fathers rent the helmets of their sons,
and sons their fathers slew. Red-banded war
Brought brothers face to face in deadly strife,
Until the fields of Oben grew to thorns,
And Asrik's herds were scattered to the winds.
At last, in fierce encounter foot to foot,
The chieftains met. With one tremendous blow
Brave Asrik, with the Allack battle-ax,
The strong right arm from Oben's shoulder hewed;
But not before the point of Oben's pike
Down-guided by the stubborn shield it smote,
Drove through the knee of Asrik, Falling both.
As swoops the eagle in its circling flight
Down on the tender suckling of the fold,
So swept the lines of watching warriors on,
To rescue with the sword their fallen chiefs.
And so the battle ended. Losing each
A limb, the warlike chieftain's chafed in wrath
Like lions chained. Worn down the years of war,
The people slept, when from the plains of Dru
A bugle-blast swept o'er the Western hills
Of fearless menace to the Allack bands,
And challenge to old Huga's daring sons.

Then Asrik's weathered herdsmen seized their arms,
And so the sturdy warriors of the field.
Each armed in doubt, for each a leader lacked,
Shorn of their strength, the wounded chieftains lay
Like Samson in Delilah's faithless arms,
While down the Ogra, like a seething flood,
Poured the grim warriors of the hordes of Drn,
Destruction breathing on the lands of both.
Then to the temples of their gods they went,
And making sacrifice to Odin, prayed
That he would heal their hurts, their limbs restore,
And place them, armed, where Allack needed strength.
Great Odin listened, and a message sent,
And this the purport of the words to both:
"War-shattered limbs can never be restored
"To warriors battling in fraternal strive,
"Lest such dread discord, hated of the gods,
"Be made eternal. Bring the buried limbs
"Of Asrik and of Oden; then beside
"The altar raised by Huga, heaven-loved,
"Together reinurn the bones in peace;
"Then when the vanguard of the men of Dru
"Their war-steeds pasture in the vale beyond
"The cliffs of Illa, in the early dawn
"Let long divided Allack kneel in arms
"Around the altar, while the wounded chiefs,
"With clasping hands above the sepulcher–
"The resting place of their dismembered limbs–
"With smoke of incense offer up their souls,
"The scepter yielding to great Odin's choice."
Each knew what Odin to the other spoke,
And each with solemn purpose bowed assent.

The steeds of Dru grazed on the Illac plains,
And all night long the sullen tramp of men,
The dipping oar, the clang of pike and shield,
Went up from out the darkness of the lake,
And echoed 'round the temples and the tombs
Of Oben's gods and Allack's sleeping jarls.
Across the lake and from the western vales
The shadowy columns of the herdsmen came,
And stood in line unchallenged. Ere the dawn,
Close on the right the troops of Oben formed;
And when the coming sun behind the hills
First pierced the darkness with his spears of light,
The wounded chiefs before the altar stood.
Against his brother leaning, Asrik bent,
His hand in only hand of Oben clasped,
While from the altar, circling through the air,
The smoking incense clouded all the host
And covered with it pall great Huga's sons.
Then broke in awful thunder's deaf'ning roar
The voice of Thor. As with a whirlwind strewn,
The Allacks fell upon their armored knees.
Now groaned the trembling earth, and in the air
Above the murky canopy of smoke,
Voices were heard, deep-toned and terrible;
Then all was silence. With the rising sun
The cloud uplifted, and the Allacks saw
Where stood the brothers but a single man.
In stature grand as god-like Ezeron,
His shapely limbs strong as the mountain ash,
All clad in mail of steel, and in his hand
Grasping the Allack battle-ax, he stood
Before the wond'ring multitude a god.
Between the armies striding forth, he said:
"Asrik no more; no longer Oben lives.
"The shattered forms of both, by Odin's hand
"Shaped into one, our swords and service claim,
"The son of Huga, Asrik-Oben speaks!"
Then from the united Allack rose a shout
That echoed up the vale beyond the cliffs;
And battle-scarred battalions, long estranged,
Formed into line and up the valley swept,
With mighty Asrik-Oben leading on.
Before the god made chieftain's battle-ax,
And strength in union of the Allack arms,
Went down the bold invaders from the Dru.
Thousands were slain; as many thousands fled.
O'erwhelmed and scattered like November leaves.
Peace rested then in Allack. Discord ceased.
The ripened corn was gathered in its time;
The herdsman's cattle fattened in the vale;
The roses blossomed where the warrior trod,
And smiling plenty poured its bounty out
Where sad-eyed want for years had made its home.

So, buried here in grandest sepulture
Besides the altars of enduring hills,
The severed limbs of fratricidal war,
Star-canopied and gold and silver lined,
Together rest in peace. And standing here,
Above the ashes of the voiceless dead,
With greeting hands as stood the Allack chiefs,
On bended knees we ask our fathers' God,
Whose mercy lifted in their wasted strength,
Whose finger guided when their path was dim,
To fashion from the wounds and hates of years,
From sore and limbless wrong and shattered right,
A new-born giant, strong of heart and arm,
Firm in his hand the righteous battle ax
That strength at Lexington and Moultrie gave;
Then, as great Asrik Oben of the past
Drove back the spoilers form the plains of Drus,
O let this warrior, Freedom, heaven-crowned,
With art more potent than is taught in war,
Beside the Hudson and the bright Santee
Disperse the herds of fractious ignorance,
Thoughtless in hate, low-browed and bludgeon-armed.
And voice of discord silence with the song,
Swelling in mighty anthem o'er the land,
The echoing angels sending back the strain,
Of "UNITY AND EVERLASTING PEACE!"

THE HONORED DEAD.

Salutes were then fired over the graves of the brave comrades who are buried in the Virginia cemetery. Following is the list:

J. L. Van Bokkelen, Major General and Prov. Marshal N. G., Nevada.

George S. WIlcox, First Michigan Cavalry, Company B, U. S. A.

James King, Kentucky Regiment, C. S. A.

John J. Braum, Second Minnesota Infantry, Company C, U. S. A.

Thomas H. Steen, Company A, first Nevada Infantry.

William Smith, Jr., Company M, Fifth New York Cavalry.

James A. Cooper, Company I, Seventh California Infantry Volunteers.

Lieutenant-Colonel W. C. Jones, Iowa regiment.

Colonel A. M. Edgington, Second Brigade, Nevada Militia.

Colonel J. Prescott Smith, First Division, Nevada Militia.

David Williams, Union Army.

After the ceremonies at this cemetery were concluded the procession reformed and marched back to the Odd Fellow's hall, where they broke ranks, each one returning to his home to assume the duties of a peaceable citizen.

IN GOLD HILL.

Impromptu Ceremonies—Decorat-
ing the Graves of Neglected He-
roes–Their Names.

Finding that the dead soldiers resting in the Gold Hill cemetery had been neglected by the Virginia people, the residents of this town resolved that their graves should not remain unhonored upon this occasion. Accordingly, W. D. C. Gibson was chosen as Marshal for the day, and Rev. Father McGrath as Chaplain. The services of the Washington Guard Band were secured, and at half-past 3 o'clock the procession formed, as follows:

Band.
Sarsfield Guard.
Carriages containing Chaplain and Orator.
Board of Town Trustees.
Members of Order Union and Confederate Veterans.
Pacific Coast Pioneers.
Citizens.

The procession moved down Main street and out to the cemetery south of town, where the graves of the gallant dead who repose there were decorated. Their names are:

Captain John Y. Paul, Captain in the Army of the Potomac.

John Broadwater, Mexican Veteran and Pioneer.

James Powers, Mexican Veteran and Texas Ranger.

Joseph Griener, United States Army. Served in the late war.

The ceremonies at the cemetery were brief and simple, but they were indicative of the feeling which fills the heart of every true American upon each anniversary of Decoration Day, and as they cast upon the humble graves of these gallant men the fragrant offerings of their hearts and hands, they felt strengthened in the determination that the blessings of freedom secured to us by the sufferings and privations of those dauntless spirits shall never grow less. It shall never grow less. It shall be, and it is, the greatest ambition of every patriot to transmit unimpaired to future generations the glorious magna charta of liberty bequeathed to us by the heroes of the Revolution. Long live their names in our nation's history. May the brightness of their glory never dim. The heroes of our last war also deserve our gratitude. May their rest remain undisturbed by the sounds of civil war or fratricidal strife, and may the sacrifice made by them lead the living to a more perfect reconciliation and harmony. We bring our flowers and forgiveness alike for the North and the South, for friend and foe. "All is quiet along the Potomac."

7

THE EVENING NEWS

ALF. DOTEN, Managing Editor.

GOLD HILL, WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 1877

MEMORIAL DAY.

Its Observance on the Comstock–
Strewing Flowers over the
Graves of Union and Confed-
erate Heroes–Oration by Judge
E. W. Hillyer–Hon. H. M. Dag-
gett's Poem–The Procession–
Other Items–The Day in Gold
Hill.

The usual ceremonies of Memorial Day were observed in Virginia City to-day. The arrangements were under charge of the Order of Union and Confederate Veterans, who extended invitations to different civic and military organizations to join in the procession, which upon this particular occasion was an unusually large one.

At an early hour this morning the Stars and Stripes at half-mast became apparent all over the city, and the regular amount of enthusiasm over a reunited country was manifested by the people. It was the talk upon the street corners, and the good folk of Gold Hill and Virginia turned out in their holiday attire. The military companies were seen marching and counter-marching, and the sound of martial music was heard in the streets. These warlike sights and sounds were but as a slight reminder of the days when the opposing hosts of the North and South met in hostile array, and the joining of those strong hands is an earnest of the peace which has been sealed by the blood of myriads of brave men.
l
CONTRIBUTIONS.

Following is a list of donations of flowers, with the names of parties presenting the same: Mrs. R. Rising, one box of flowers; Mrs. J. C. Lewis, one box of flowers; Mrs. M. C. Hillyer, three packages of flowers; Mrs. E. B. Stonehill, one box of flowers; Mrs. J. C. Currie, one box of flowers; Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Lon. Hamilton, two boxes of flowers; Mrs. A. L. Meekins, one box of bouquets; Mrs. Thomas Buckner, crown of immortelles; Mrs. Gilbert Ross, one box of flowers; Mrs. Charles H. Osborne, one box of flowers; Mrs. Alice Nye, bouquets; Mrs. French, one basked of flowers; Mrs. S. J. Cooper and Miss Carrie Clark, bouquets; Mr. and Mrs. Alex G. McKinzie, one box of bouquets and wreath of flowers; Mrs. W. H. Smith, one box of flowers; Mrs. F. A. Tritle, one box of flowers; Mrs. J. C. Yong, one basked of flowers; Hon. Jonas Seely, one box of flowers.

THE PROCESSION.

Shortly after 10 o'clock the procession formed on C street, near the Odd Fellows' building, with Captain F. C. Lord as Grand Marshal and Comrade Ogden Hiles, U. S. A.., and Comrade Guy Thorpe, C. S. A., as Aids. At 11 o'clock the line moved in the following order:

Band.
Order Union and Confederate Veterans.
Surviving Mexican Veterans.
Exempt Firemen.
Pacific Coast Pioneers,
Fire Departments of Virginia and Gold Hill,
Virginia Turn-Verein.
Carriages, containing the Chaplain, Orator,
Poet and Reader.
The Choral Society.
Carriages containing Teachers of the Public
Schools.
Children of the Public Schools.
Federal, State, County and City officials.
Citizens in Carriages.

The line of march was crowded with interested spectators and the general appearance indicated that the people of Nevada, at least, have accepted Memorial Day as an occasion second only to the glorious Fourth of July.

AT THE CEMETERY.

The programme marked out by the Committee of Arrangements was carried out.

Music by the Band.
Decoration.
Music–Choral Society.
Prayer–Comrade Rev. W. R. Jenvey.
Oration–Comrade E. W. Hillyer.
Music–Choral Society
Poem, Hon. R. M. Daggett; Reader, R. H. Lindsay.
Music by the Band.
Benediction.

The music by the Choral Societdy was excellent, and Judge Hillyer's oration was listened to with interest, the speaker being frequently interrupted by bursts of enthusiastic applause. The Choral Society was composed of Mrs. Layton, Mrs. Eels, Mrs. Foster, Miss Jennie Galt, Geo H. Eels, Mr. Hull and C. L. Foster

Mr. Lindsay read the poem in fine style, adding all his power of elocution to Mr. Daggett's superb production.

ASRIK-OBEN.
All beauty-strewn, with willows bending o'er,
Where timid streams in lonesome monotone,
Low crouching under shelving banks of green,
Wind slowly past the places of the dead,
Repose the ashes of eventless lives.
They lived in peace, and so in silence rest.
No storm e'er rent the sunshine of their days,
The songs of birds, the distant plowman's voice,
The bleating herds, the mellow call of kine,
The zephyrs freight around the tombs of men
Who filled the level ranks of noiseless years,
And went to sleep worn with aching toil
That finds reward and ample recompense
In stinted comforts (asking nothing more),
And changeless faith and hope beyond the grave.

Not so the warrior lives, nor so he dies,
The griefs of others grasping as his own,
His soul attuned to music of the storm,
The silent sobs of anguish, and the tears
Of nations and of men, are by his arm
Translated into vengeance, and his sword,
A tongue of fire with eloquence of might,
Speaks peace through blood and joy through prostrate wrong.
If 'mid the clash of steel in fearless charge,
With awful voice of carnage urging on,
His dauntless soul goes out unawed, and winged
With the black breath of battle, where he falls–
His hand still clenching in its rigid clasp
The shattered standard or the broken blade–
Are laid away, trenched in the wounded earth,
His stiffened limbs, ranked with a ghastly line
Of blood stained heroes marshaled for the skies,
In rocky fastness and on mountain peak,
In forest dim with age and gloomy gorge,
Where'er the chance of battle hews him down,
There sleeps the soldier. 'Tis a fitting place.
His dust should mingle with the grand of earth,
And part become of mountain and of stream,
As was entombed the greatest of the Huns.

Not in the hell of battle sank the few
Whose mounds we come to strew with flowers to-day,
With hand impartial and with heart in tears.
By Death unchallenged passing through the gates
Of war, in peace they met the valiant shades
Of sturdy comrades stricken down n Arms
By the fierce lightning of the thund'ring charge;
And here, like warriors battle-cloaked, they rest,
Inurned upon the burnt and rocky crests
Of mountains by the first of Pluto rent,
And from the breasts of angry deserts raised,
The shimmering sands stretch eastward in the sun,
While mountain westward on the rocky steps
Of billowy peaks and canyons dark in depth,
The whitened hights, enthroned against the clouds,
Look down with changeless face on treeless plains,
Voiceless in song and smileless everywhere.

So from the ashes of the warring sons
Of stormy Huga, sepulchered in peace,
Was born the union of the Allack bands,
And brotherhood that gave them lasting strength.
Long ere the fair-haired Harold, great in arms,
(So runs the saga of a Northern scald),
Subdued the tribes of Norway and the Finns;
Before the Sea Kings and united hordes
Of sturdy Norsemen, clad in furs and steel,
Followed the sail of Rollo o'er the seam
And tribute laid on Holland and the French;
Before the son of Eric, westward bound
In search of unknown lands and fairer climes,
The sunset saw from distant Helluland;–
aye, long before, there dwelt a warlike tribe
Beside the Otra, where its widening banks
Shape through the vale a long and narrow lake.
Fair are its valleys yet, and clear and cool
Its waters, as in swift descent and wild
It pours its volume into Skager Rack,
Its current mingling with the Northern Sea.
Along the sunny borders of the lake
The Allacks lived, a brave and blue eyed tribe,
In numbers few, but with the sword and spear,
and bow and battle-ax, a fearless host.
They knew the arts as others knew them then
Their herds were many and their fields were broad.
Abundance waited on their spreading nets,
And rich in spoil the hunter homeward came.
They sought not conquest, but their rufgged arms
And ready blades defended all their own.

Their chief was Huga, grand and strong of limb,
Whose battle-ax was of the anvil's weight.
In council wise, in arms a moving tower,
He claimed descent through loins of heroes down
From god-like Sœming, and to Odin thence.
Beside a cliff, walled in with massive stone,
Were altars reared to Odin and to Thor,
And Tyr and other of the Norseman's gods;
And when in childless wedlock Huga prayed,
The answering thunders spake a dread assent,
And to his hopes and home two sons were born.
The first was Asrik; Oben next and both
To mighty manhood grew. Then Huga died,
And Oben seized the scepter and the sword.
The Allacks were divided. Asrik, right,
Had followers, and so had Oben, wrong.
Across the lake the elder eastward went,
Bearing the battle-ax of Ezron,
Which down to Huga came through a might of arm.
There, with herdsmen of the Ogran plains
And hunters from the woody hills beyond,
He raised the standard of the Allack jarls,
And builded temples to his fathers' gods
Of thunder and of war. Then Oben armed,
And up and down the Ogra bearded men,
War-visaged, sprang to arms; and sword and pike
Of fathers rent the helmets of their sons,
and sons their fathers slew. Red-banded war
Brought brothers face to face in deadly strife,
Until the fields of Oben grew to thorns,
And Asrik's herds were scattered to the winds.
At last, in fierce encounter foot to foot,
The chieftains met. With one tremendous blow
Brave Asrik, with the Allack battle-ax,
The strong right arm from Oben's shoulder hewed;
But not before the point of Oben's pike
Down-guided by the stubborn shield it smote,
Drove through the knee of Asrik, Falling both.
As swoops the eagle in its circling flight
Down on the tender suckling of the fold,
So swept the lines of watching warriors on,
To rescue with the sword their fallen chiefs.
And so the battle ended. Losing each
A limb, the warlike chieftain's chafed in wrath
Like lions chained. Worn down the years of war,
The people slept, when from the plains of Dru
A bugle-blast swept o'er the Western hills
Of fearless menace to the Allack bands,
And challenge to old Huga's daring sons.

Then Asrik's weathered herdsmen seized their arms,
And so the sturdy warriors of the field.
Each armed in doubt, for each a leader lacked,
Shorn of their strength, the wounded chieftains lay
Like Samson in Delilah's faithless arms,
While down the Ogra, like a seething flood,
Poured the grim warriors of the hordes of Drn,
Destruction breathing on the lands of both.
Then to the temples of their gods they went,
And making sacrifice to Odin, prayed
That he would heal their hurts, their limbs restore,
And place them, armed, where Allack needed strength.
Great Odin listened, and a message sent,
And this the purport of the words to both:
"War-shattered limbs can never be restored
"To warriors battling in fraternal strive,
"Lest such dread discord, hated of the gods,
"Be made eternal. Bring the buried limbs
"Of Asrik and of Oden; then beside
"The altar raised by Huga, heaven-loved,
"Together reinurn the bones in peace;
"Then when the vanguard of the men of Dru
"Their war-steeds pasture in the vale beyond
"The cliffs of Illa, in the early dawn
"Let long divided Allack kneel in arms
"Around the altar, while the wounded chiefs,
"With clasping hands above the sepulcher–
"The resting place of their dismembered limbs–
"With smoke of incense offer up their souls,
"The scepter yielding to great Odin's choice."
Each knew what Odin to the other spoke,
And each with solemn purpose bowed assent.

The steeds of Dru grazed on the Illac plains,
And all night long the sullen tramp of men,
The dipping oar, the clang of pike and shield,
Went up from out the darkness of the lake,
And echoed 'round the temples and the tombs
Of Oben's gods and Allack's sleeping jarls.
Across the lake and from the western vales
The shadowy columns of the herdsmen came,
And stood in line unchallenged. Ere the dawn,
Close on the right the troops of Oben formed;
And when the coming sun behind the hills
First pierced the darkness with his spears of light,
The wounded chiefs before the altar stood.
Against his brother leaning, Asrik bent,
His hand in only hand of Oben clasped,
While from the altar, circling through the air,
The smoking incense clouded all the host
And covered with it pall great Huga's sons.
Then broke in awful thunder's deaf'ning roar
The voice of Thor. As with a whirlwind strewn,
The Allacks fell upon their armored knees.
Now groaned the trembling earth, and in the air
Above the murky canopy of smoke,
Voices were heard, deep-toned and terrible;
Then all was silence. With the rising sun
The cloud uplifted, and the Allacks saw
Where stood the brothers but a single man.
In stature grand as god-like Ezeron,
His shapely limbs strong as the mountain ash,
All clad in mail of steel, and in his hand
Grasping the Allack battle-ax, he stood
Before the wond'ring multitude a god.
Between the armies striding forth, he said:
"Asrik no more; no longer Oben lives.
"The shattered forms of both, by Odin's hand
"Shaped into one, our swords and service claim,
"The son of Huga, Asrik-Oben speaks!"
Then from the united Allack rose a shout
That echoed up the vale beyond the cliffs;
And battle-scarred battalions, long estranged,
Formed into line and up the valley swept,
With mighty Asrik-Oben leading on.
Before the god made chieftain's battle-ax,
And strength in union of the Allack arms,
Went down the bold invaders from the Dru.
Thousands were slain; as many thousands fled.
O'erwhelmed and scattered like November leaves.
Peace rested then in Allack. Discord ceased.
The ripened corn was gathered in its time;
The herdsman's cattle fattened in the vale;
The roses blossomed where the warrior trod,
And smiling plenty poured its bounty out
Where sad-eyed want for years had made its home.

So, buried here in grandest sepulture
Besides the altars of enduring hills,
The severed limbs of fratricidal war,
Star-canopied and gold and silver lined,
Together rest in peace. And standing here,
Above the ashes of the voiceless dead,
With greeting hands as stood the Allack chiefs,
On bended knees we ask our fathers' God,
Whose mercy lifted in their wasted strength,
Whose finger guided when their path was dim,
To fashion from the wounds and hates of years,
From sore and limbless wrong and shattered right,
A new-born giant, strong of heart and arm,
Firm in his hand the righteous battle ax
That strength at Lexington and Moultrie gave;
Then, as great Asrik Oben of the past
Drove back the spoilers form the plains of Drus,
O let this warrior, Freedom, heaven-crowned,
With art more potent than is taught in war,
Beside the Hudson and the bright Santee
Disperse the herds of fractious ignorance,
Thoughtless in hate, low-browed and bludgeon-armed.
And voice of discord silence with the song,
Swelling in mighty anthem o'er the land,
The echoing angels sending back the strain,
Of "UNITY AND EVERLASTING PEACE!"

THE HONORED DEAD.

Salutes were then fired over the graves of the brave comrades who are buried in the Virginia cemetery. Following is the list:

J. L. Van Bokkelen, Major General and Prov. Marshal N. G., Nevada.

George S. WIlcox, First Michigan Cavalry, Company B, U. S. A.

James King, Kentucky Regiment, C. S. A.

John J. Braum, Second Minnesota Infantry, Company C, U. S. A.

Thomas H. Steen, Company A, first Nevada Infantry.

William Smith, Jr., Company M, Fifth New York Cavalry.

James A. Cooper, Company I, Seventh California Infantry Volunteers.

Lieutenant-Colonel W. C. Jones, Iowa regiment.

Colonel A. M. Edgington, Second Brigade, Nevada Militia.

Colonel J. Prescott Smith, First Division, Nevada Militia.

David Williams, Union Army.

After the ceremonies at this cemetery were concluded the procession reformed and marched back to the Odd Fellow's hall, where they broke ranks, each one returning to his home to assume the duties of a peaceable citizen.

IN GOLD HILL.

Impromptu Ceremonies—Decorat-
ing the Graves of Neglected He-
roes–Their Names.

Finding that the dead soldiers resting in the Gold Hill cemetery had been neglected by the Virginia people, the residents of this town resolved that their graves should not remain unhonored upon this occasion. Accordingly, W. D. C. Gibson was chosen as Marshal for the day, and Rev. Father McGrath as Chaplain. The services of the Washington Guard Band were secured, and at half-past 3 o'clock the procession formed, as follows:

Band.
Sarsfield Guard.
Carriages containing Chaplain and Orator.
Board of Town Trustees.
Members of Order Union and Confederate Veterans.
Pacific Coast Pioneers.
Citizens.

The procession moved down Main street and out to the cemetery south of town, where the graves of the gallant dead who repose there were decorated. Their names are:

Captain John Y. Paul, Captain in the Army of the Potomac.

John Broadwater, Mexican Veteran and Pioneer.

James Powers, Mexican Veteran and Texas Ranger.

Joseph Griener, United States Army. Served in the late war.

The ceremonies at the cemetery were brief and simple, but they were indicative of the feeling which fills the heart of every true American upon each anniversary of Decoration Day, and as they cast upon the humble graves of these gallant men the fragrant offerings of their hearts and hands, they felt strengthened in the determination that the blessings of freedom secured to us by the sufferings and privations of those dauntless spirits shall never grow less. It shall never grow less. It shall be, and it is, the greatest ambition of every patriot to transmit unimpaired to future generations the glorious magna charta of liberty bequeathed to us by the heroes of the Revolution. Long live their names in our nation's history. May the brightness of their glory never dim. The heroes of our last war also deserve our gratitude. May their rest remain undisturbed by the sounds of civil war or fratricidal strife, and may the sacrifice made by them lead the living to a more perfect reconciliation and harmony. We bring our flowers and forgiveness alike for the North and the South, for friend and foe. "All is quiet along the Potomac."