44

JOHN SHEEDY'S GRAVE.

It Was Not Forgotten While the Flowers Were Being Straws Over the Dead.

Between 10 and 11 o'clock yesterday morning ere the Grand Army parage had reached the cemetery a carriage drawn by a well known white horse was seen, emerging from St. Theresa's Catholic cemetery, just across the street from Wyuka, and bend its course toward the city. In it were seated two ladies whom it was not difficult to recognize at once as Mrs. Mary Sheedy and her sister, Mrs. Morgan. The former was attired in a becoming gown of black silk, but the following morning veil she wore during the trial had been laid aside. Mrs. Morgan was attired in a more cheerful habit. They were at once the center of observation as they leisurely drove toward the city, meaning the hundreds of people who were hurrying toward the cemetery.

Down at the left side of the road that skirts the western limit of St. Theresa's cemetery, near the southern extremity of the silent city, is a [?] of moderately freshly turned yellow clay. No stone yet marks its full significance to the passer by, but it was soon identified as the grave of John Sheedy, who departed this life on that fateful night in January so fraught with interest to the people of Lincoln. When the noble looking white horse had drawn its load from the gate of the cemetery those who drove down the road past that mournful heap of earth noticed that two large bouquets of the choicest not house flowers nestled in the bosom of that bank of clay. They told a pathetic story with which the people of Lincoln are already, but too well acquainted.