This is his day at the cemetery. Didn't you know that?
He will let nothing on earth get in the way of his pilgrimage to
that spot on the twenty-third of May, much less so trivial an
occurrence as an inquest over the remains of his nearest relative."
I felt my gorge rise; then a thought struck me and I asked how long
the old gentleman kept up his watch.
"From sunrise to sundown, the boys say. I never saw him there myself.
My beat lies in an opposite direction."
I left him and started for Rock Creek Cemetery. There were two good
hours yet before sundown and I resolved to come upon Uncle David at
his post.
It took just one hour and a quarter to get there by the most direct
route I could take. Five minutes more to penetrate the grounds to
where a superb vehicle stood, drawn by two of the finest horses I
had seen in Washington for many a long day. As I was making my way
around this equipage I came upon a plot in a condition of upheaval
preparatory to new sodding and the planting of several choice shrubs.
In the midst of the sand thus exposed a single head-stone rose. On
his knees beside this simple monument I saw the figure of Uncle
David, dressed in his finest clothes and showing in his oddly
contorted face the satisfaction of great prosperity, battling with
the dissatisfaction of knowing that one he had so loved had not
lived to share his elevation.
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