San Joaquin Valley Argus
March 28, 1878, page 2
The subject of this sketch, A. B. Anderson, jr., the well beloved son of
A. B. and HANNAH ANDERSON, was born at La Grange, Stanislaus county, Cal.,
March the 15th, 1856. In the year 1862 he came with his parents to the
little town of Snelling. Here BONEY ANDERSON, as he was familiarly called
by old and young, grew up from a bright, jovial, generous-hearted little
boy to the years of a beautiful, hopeful manhood. The journals of the day
have given publicity to the manner of his sudden taking off, which was sp
instantaneous that euthansay must have been the results. We do not here
feel it incumbent upon us to give details. Would that we could say a few
words that would give genuine comfort to the grief stricken parents and
sorrowing sisters and brother. If we had the power to give the eye of
faith, which would induce them to look upon this passing away from earth
life as we view it, how soon the bitter pangs of regret would change to
sweet hopes which would lead them, in their mind's eye, to the lovely
fields "over there" away beyond the star-lit blue and silver. Aye, beyond
the gorgeous reflections of the gold and purple sunsets.
"Passing away; passing away; Yet I know of a land where there is no
decay, Where the balmy air's filled with the richest perfume.
From sweet, fragrant flowers, and fadeless their bloom; Where the soul
never grieves as it doth here below.
O'er fair vanished dreams, o'er hopes fitful glow.
Where linked forever is love's golden chain. And parting words chill us,
of never again."
Where all the well-meant aspirations will be gratified, and all of the
longings for a better and purer life will meet no opposition in
temptation. Young Boney was a youthful giant in strength and in the rosy
bloom of health, with sparkling eyes, a prompt, manly voice, courthouse
and affable in manner and gesture, noble and generous in heart, kind and
charitable in disposition, gaseous and accommodating to his friends,
affectionate, gentle and loving to those he loved. His mother, his sweet,
gentle mother, was his idol; his sisters his pride and admiration. As he
verged into the first glowing years of manhood he became ambitious, and
would often laughingly remark to his sister Fanny, "Why, I shall astonish
the world one of these days." With all and every aspiration seemed higher
his great and noble love for his mother.
Only a few days previous to his death he sat and talked with his sisters
about the wonderful things he intended to do to promote the happiness of
his sweet little mother. They had been reading a story together, over one
of the chapters of which was the following verse. He marked it and said,
"When you get home, Fanny, show this to mamma, and tell her they are the
true sentiments of Boney's heart;
I will be great, and build our fortunes high,
And you shall wear the longest trains at court,
And look so queenly, all the lord's shall say,
She is a royal changeling there's a some crown
Lacks the right head, since her's wears naught but braids,"
Young Boney had just entered upon a new enterprise, that of learning the
telegraph business, which he felt would be a steeping stone to the
fulfillment of his ardent heart-hope, that of one day becoming a prominent
railroad man. This had been the dream of his young life, but the Allwise
power saw fit to transfer him to a higher sphere of action beneath the
same roof, where 22 years before his eyes had opened to earth life, his
cold and lifeless form was laid. It was there the fond young mother
imprinted the first kiss upon the cold still forehead, the last, until
they shall meet again upon the shinning shore.
There was a faint smile of sweet repose lingering upon the unblemished
part of the face, which the fond, weeping mother will never forget, While
the dear ones were weeping and sorrowing, and crying out in anguish of
heart and agony of mind, this smile bespoke, a brighter scene in which the
sweet spirit mingled, while the living were crying out in bitter
lamentations "Oh! Boney, darling Boney, shall we never see you again" Oh,
shall we never hear your sweet voice on earth?"
I'm glad, free spirit was floating so still, so calm -- floating on
through the pure, soft ethereal sir, borne by a convoy of bright spirits,
while the waiting ones gathered on the shore were singing glad songs of
welcome in the perfumed bowers of unwithering flowers, where the familiar
faces of friends and neighbors who have gone before him, with sweet smiles
and in well-remembered tones of voice shout a glad welcome, "Boney,
welcome to our bright home." Oh! is that one beardless youth there to
great him? Yes, Boney and George clasp hands. Dear lonely hearted mother,
your Boney is not alone in the cold and silent grave. Don't look down into
its depths to see your dear one. Look up to the white and blue and silver.
His sweet spirit face looks down upon you and says, weep not, mother, look
up and smile.
The rites were performed at the dear old home, where a large concourse of
friends assembled to sympathize with the bereaved family. The Rev. Mr.
Peck, Pastor, of the First Presbyterian Church, of Merced, delivered a few
kind, soothing, heart healing words; and oh, how our hearts poured forth
blessings for the kind considerations the good man evinced in his
beautiful remarks; his words were like fragrant flowers being entwined
into garlands of love, truth and sympathy; and as the organ lulled forth
its sad sweet notes and the choir joined in the solemn requiem, and the
lovely flowers united their sweet perfume. It seemed as though the angles
were present. When the service were ended the pall bearers bore the
beautiful casket to the tomb, followed by scores of friends. The bright
spring wild flowers keep watch, while the night winds whisper "all is
well, all is well," and the sweet words are echoed by the celestial band,
while the angels and archangels catch up the strain," "All is well; all is
well. I am safely in the spirit home---all is well !"