Brasher, Lizzie
DIED, in this city, Friday at 6 ‘clock p.m., of typhoid pneumonia, at the family residence, Miss Lizzie Brasher, eldest daughter of Mrs. Laura Brasher. Miss Lizzie had been in bad health for several months, but week before last she was able to be up, and all her many friends were confident that her recovery was permeant[sic]. Vain hope, however, for on Easter Sunday (in the afternoon), she was taken with relapse and compelled to give up. She was just in the prime of life--handsome, accomplished, a true christian lady and beloved by everyone. It might well be said of her that "Amiable, she won all; intelligent she charmed all; fervent, she loved all; and dead, she saddened all." Her remains were laid to rest in the Odd Fellows' cemetery Saturday afternoon at 4 o'clock, Rev. H. M Haynie of the Methodist church performing the burial service.
"Dear is the spot where christians sleep
And sweet the strain the angels pour.
O! why should we in anguish weep?
They are not lost but gone before."
Weimar Mercury, April 18, 1891
DIED, in this city, Friday at 6 ‘clock p.m., of typhoid pneumonia, at the family residence, Miss Lizzie Brasher, eldest daughter of Mrs. Laura Brasher. Miss Lizzie had been in bad health for several months, but week before last she was able to be up, and all her many friends were confident that her recovery was permeant[sic]. Vain hope, however, for on Easter Sunday (in the afternoon), she was taken with relapse and compelled to give up. She was just in the prime of life--handsome, accomplished, a true christian lady and beloved by everyone. It might well be said of her that "Amiable, she won all; intelligent she charmed all; fervent, she loved all; and dead, she saddened all." Her remains were laid to rest in the Odd Fellows' cemetery Saturday afternoon at 4 o'clock, Rev. H. M Haynie of the Methodist church performing the burial service.
"Dear is the spot where christians sleep
And sweet the strain the angels pour.
O! why should we in anguish weep?
They are not lost but gone before."
Weimar Mercury, April 18, 1891
Brasher, Lizzie
DIED, in this city, Friday at 6 ‘clock p.m., of typhoid pneumonia, at the family residence, Miss Lizzie Brasher, eldest daughter of Mrs. Laura Brasher. Miss Lizzie had been in bad health for several months, but week before last she was able to be up, and all her many friends were confident that her recovery was permeant[sic]. Vain hope, however, for on Easter Sunday (in the afternoon), she was taken with relapse and compelled to give up. She was just in the prime of life--handsome, accomplished, a true christian lady and beloved by everyone. It might well be said of her that "Amiable, she won all; intelligent she charmed all; fervent, she loved all; and dead, she saddened all." Her remains were laid to rest in the Odd Fellows' cemetery Saturday afternoon at 4 o'clock, Rev. H. M Haynie of the Methodist church performing the burial service.
"Dear is the spot where christians sleep
And sweet the strain the angels pour.
O! why should we in anguish weep?
They are not lost but gone before."
Weimar Mercury, April 18, 1891
DIED, in this city, Friday at 6 ‘clock p.m., of typhoid pneumonia, at the family residence, Miss Lizzie Brasher, eldest daughter of Mrs. Laura Brasher. Miss Lizzie had been in bad health for several months, but week before last she was able to be up, and all her many friends were confident that her recovery was permeant[sic]. Vain hope, however, for on Easter Sunday (in the afternoon), she was taken with relapse and compelled to give up. She was just in the prime of life--handsome, accomplished, a true christian lady and beloved by everyone. It might well be said of her that "Amiable, she won all; intelligent she charmed all; fervent, she loved all; and dead, she saddened all." Her remains were laid to rest in the Odd Fellows' cemetery Saturday afternoon at 4 o'clock, Rev. H. M Haynie of the Methodist church performing the burial service.
"Dear is the spot where christians sleep
And sweet the strain the angels pour.
O! why should we in anguish weep?
They are not lost but gone before."
Weimar Mercury, April 18, 1891
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