IN MEMORIAM - Alice Ives.
Gone to the grave is our loved one.
Gone in the spring time of youth.
Tho the thought robs our hearts of lightness,
It is no less the sad truth.
Sadly we watched by her bedside,
Hoping in vain for the best,
But in vain were our weak endeavors,
For the Heavenly Father knew best.
Silently the angel of Death
Stole in and claimed his prize;
He carried from earth little Alice
To her home beyond the skies.

Little did the writer think the last time he saw bright and merry Alice Ives that her voice would so soon be hushed in death, and the sprightly and graceful little figure would forever cease its gleeful rambles. But she now is taking her long sleep. Alice's life had been short, she having lived five years and four months. Three weeks ago she was taken sick with scarlet fever and it was from complications arising from that disease which caused her death. The death was a peculiarly sad one, and Mr. and Mrs. J.L. Ives may rest assured that their great grief is shared by the citizens of the entire town. Mr. Ives was sick in bed during the most of Alice's sickness, and unable to nurse the dying child or give consolation to the devoted mother. Little Alice during her brief existence here was the light and joy of her parents' life, and last Sunday morning when, over her dark brown eyes, the white lids closed forever, that light and joy seemed engulfed in absolute darkness. Would that we might help them even in a small measure to dispel this gloom; that we could say something to shed one ray of light into this their night of sorrow. But alas! how feeble are words and efforts on occasions like this Mr. and Mrs. Ives, little Alice came to you and for a brief period blessed your lives with her beautiful form and presence; in the inscrutable ways of things she was not longer to remain with you and you must submit to her going. For the joy of her presence you must now give the anguish of her absence, and beneath and around it all there will spring up a blessing that is immortal.

The lingering smile on her sweet face is a promise of some realization that will ultimately become manifest. Time, the soother of all woes, will soften your sorrow, and the memory of your lovely child will be a hallowed shrine in your hearts.

The funeral was held from the residence of Mr. E.L. Ives on Sunday afternoon, being conducted by Rev. W.C. Paden, assisted by the Masonic fraternity, and the remains were interred in the Manning Cemetery.