This page contains a short story: "An Experience over the Dead" as well as four short poems written by Harris in memory of recently deceased friends.

An Experience Over the Dead
In Memory of Fannie C. Armstrong, Deceased
In Memoriam of Mrs. Mary E.L. Jones from Oct. 16th 1921. "Asleep in Death."
In Memory of Moses Boggs
In Memoriam

John Braham was a resident of the Hill, a member of the Baptist Church, and a spirited singer.  He died many years ago.  The writer of the notes in years gone by, has listened to several of his lively stories.  He was also a carpenter by trade, and on one occasion he went to another town where he was engaged for work on several buildings  He was a stranger in this place, yet he soon made friends, being a churchman, and very lively in conversation, and spiritual songs.  He says he was then a young unmarried man he in company with several other young men attended a "Sitting Up" in the old time way over the dead.  The room where the dead man lay, was very small, with only one door and window.  It was a warm night, and the deadman was ver tall, therefore after he was laid out, his body in length he took up the entire distance across the room, only the few men sat around laughing and talking, Braham sat near the window, so as to catch the outside breeze, finally he fell asleep, and when he aroused after midnight, the others had gone, and he was there all alone with the strange dead man.  He became somewhat excited, and as the dead body filled the distance across the room, there was no way to get by the body without slowly squeezing by.  So Braham was quiet for a while when a slow breeze began to come in between the door and window, which caused the shrouding sheet to puff up near the dead man's hands  Braham thought the man was about to come to life.  He Branham wore a pair of old shoes all edged out at the toe.  He became terribly frightened, and in a rush all by himself, he made a jump across the dead body, and one of his old shoes got hitched into the sheet, and pulled the body from the boards to the floor.  Blim, Branham thought the man had him.  He hollowed and kicked until he loosened his shoe from the sheet.  He went runing for life thro' the woods until he reached the first house in sight.  He stopped and knocked thinking the dead man was right behind him an old man came to the door.  Branham pleaded for entrance and a nights' stay, as he was a long ways from his lodging place.  The old man allowed him to come in, but at first refused him staying all night, having three grown girls in the house, and this being a strage man  Branham explained his experience, and still pleaded that he was even willing to sit up all night in one corner.  The old man still refused, after a while the old lady spoke in the usual ways more in sympathy and ready to console than a man, so she advised her husband to let him stay the night out, well the old man agreed to his wife's advice, with the understanding that Branham sleep on a palate on the floor, and that he would do the sitting up in regards to his three gals in the house.  Branham says alright sir any way that suits you will suit me, just since you don't put me out here tonight with that dead man. 

In Memory of Fannie C. Armstrong, Deceased
WORDS AND MUSIC COMPOSED BY MRS. E.J. HARRIS

1. In the bright spring time we laid her
  In her dusty bed to rest,
After hours of pain and suffering
  She's not numbered with the blest.
In the shining courts of glory,
  In the land so bright and fair,
She is now at rest forever
  With the angels over there.
Life may now seem lonely, mother,
  Since dear Fannie's passed away,
But remember, oh remember,
  You are fading day by day

2. Mother, father, weep not for me;
  Dry those loving tears I see,
Just beyond the walls of Jasper,
  They are watching out for me.
Listen mother, hear them wishpering?
  Calmly in the open air.
Gentle voices sweetly calling
  For my presence over there.
Soon the angels will be calling
  You from this sad earth of care,
Where the loved now are waiting
  For my presence over there.

3. Mother when your task is ended
  I will ask my Savior dear.
Savior send me down to earh
  To convey my mother here.
You have tenderly caressed me.
  With the comforts of this life.
Now my task on earth has ended.
  Faith will pull me though the strife.
Mother, father, will you meet me
  On the bright and shining shore?
Where there's no more toil and sorrow;
  There we'll meet to part no more.

The Echo, Nov. 11 1922
(The Hill Notes Con,)
In Memoriam.
Of Mrs. Mary E.L. Jones, From Oct. 16th 1921, "Asleep in Death."

"A year ago today, she slipped away, under the sun's bright and peaceful rays, her loved ones near with enderset care, lookin on with thought of bygone happy days, when in her life of cheer, yet calm, she filled a wife and mother's plave. Prompt to her duties with no alarm her pictured life for her family and her race, from years in youth to her dying day, she placed her soul on the safe, bright side, and whn she was called from this life away, her soul passed peacefully across the tide.

Sweet and peaceful be her slumber, as her life on earth was such, there she's with the blessed number, in her Father's realm so rich."

By her class-mate and friend
ELIZABETH J. HARRIS

In Memory of Moses Boggs

At the closing of the season
On a lovely autum morn.
The Messenger Death came riding by
Just before the early dawn.
He rode across the spacious fields
Where flowers were fading and falling
But there yet stood one inclined to yield
To the Master's early calling.
He rode around this precious bud
And viewed it oe'r and oe'r,
He plucked, and conveyed it to his God
Where flowers fade no more.
In yonders beautiful field of green
Where flowers are fresh and fair.
This lovely bud will there be seen
Under heaven's purest air.
There's a vacant place in the Sunday school
There's a vacant place at home,
Vacated for the garden of Paradise
Where flowers are always in bloom
The angels will welcome and admire this flower
In that land beyond the sky,
Under sprinkles from the heavenly shower
In the beautiful by and by.

Elizabeth Johnson Harris

In Memoriam

Sacred to the memory of J. Walter Johnson who died on April 14th 1914.  

Sleep on brother, and take thy rest,
The God of Mercy knows what's best.
The loss to us, tho' deep and sad,
The gain to you has made you glad.
We miss your presence from us, dear,
Yet still to us you are so near.
We hope to meet you with the blest,
Where the weary are at rest -
Just across that shining shore,
Then we'll meet to part no more.

(signed) Widow, Mrs. Phebe A. Johnson and ten children.
Mr. Walter R.I. Johnson, oldest son.
Mrs. Sarah J. Johnson, mother.
Messrs. Robert and William Johnson, brothers.
Virginia Club,
Young's Association.
Mrs. L.J. Harris, Augusta Ga. (who composed the words, mother of C. J. Harris). 

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