100 ORCHABD KNOB. 



before their time ? — that so many of them 

 were lying in nameless graves ? We shall 

 all die ; few of us so worthily ; and when 

 we are gone, of what use will be a name 

 upon a stone, a name which, after a few 

 years at the most, no passer-by will be con- 

 cerned to read ? Happy is he who dies to 

 some purpose. It would have been good, I 

 thought, to see over the cemetery gate the 

 brave old Latin sentence, Dulce et decorum 

 est 2^'^o patria mori. 



The human visitors, of whom one day 

 there might have been a hundred, were 

 largely people of color. All were quiet 

 and orderly, in couples and family groups. 

 Most of them, I remarked, went to look at 

 the only striking monument in the grounds, 

 a locomotive and tender (the " General " ) 

 on a pedestal of marble — "Ohio's Trib- 

 ute to the Andrews Kaiders, 1862." On 

 three faces of the pedestal are lists of the 

 " exchanged," the " executed," and the 

 " escaped." 



One thing, one only, grated upon my feel- 

 ings. In a corner of the inclosure is the 

 Superintendent's house, with a stable and 

 out-buildings ; and at the gate the visitor is 



