A Sad Death.

On the evening of the fourteenth as the shadows cast by the sinking orb of the day began to lengthen the death angel visited our peaceful little village and spread a shroud of gloom and sorrow by taking away one of our most estimable women, Mrs. L. C. Franks. The news of the death of this good woman was passed from lip to lip with ill-suppressed emotion until it had spread to a considerable distance, for Mrs. Franks numbered her friends by the score, and all were alike shocked to know that she was no more. She was the wife of Mr. L. C. Franks, the postmaster at Pine Log, and a sister of the McCandlesses of Cherokee county. She leaves besides these an only son to mourn her loss.

She was fifty-two years of age and forty-two years have been spent in the church; a good, upright, consistent and unostentatious church member. Always cheerful, with a smile for every one, helpful to those who needed assistance, and absolutely clear of gossiping. Mrs. Franks could but gain the confidence of all. Though she may had, and in all probability did have, her own private sorrows and trials, yet she never essayed to trouble anyone else with these. During her last days her body was tortured with pain unimaginable but she never complained in the least, for she evidently realized the truth of the lines:

“Death! Death seems a cruel foe;

Filling our hearts with woe;

Yet ‘tis the door

To realms of endless rest.”

Yes she is gone and we miss her sadly, but we know that she is far better off—she is where the troubles griefs and cares of this world will no longer vex her, and it would be unjust to want to recall her.

The remains were interred in Pine Log cemetery, Rev. J. A. Sharo conducting the funeral ceremonies in a very impressive manner.

--Linton Upshaw.