Her Clothes Will Pay the Burial Charges
BOSTON, May 22.--Hattie Francis, a beautiful blonde of 23 years, handsomely attired, sat at a table in the most fashionable cafe in the city Thursday night. She smiled across the cloth at her escort, a well-known young man about town, and raising a glass of wine to her lips with the words "Here's to you," was about to drink.
Suddenly she turned pale and fell back in her chair, while the wine glass was shattered on the floor.
"I'm dying," she gasped. A stream of blood trickled from her lips. A surgeon was called.
"I can do nothing; she is dead," he said.
The body was taken to the city morgue. There it lies unclaimed. The dead woman had no one to call her friend and must sleep in the pottersfield. Her fine garments will be sold to pay the expense of burial. Her parents live on a New Hampshire farm.
SOURCE: Los Angeles Herald, Volume 26, Number 235, 23 May 1897, page 1.
BOSTON, May 22.--Hattie Francis, a beautiful blonde of 23 years, handsomely attired, sat at a table in the most fashionable cafe in the city Thursday night. She smiled across the cloth at her escort, a well-known young man about town, and raising a glass of wine to her lips with the words "Here's to you," was about to drink.
Suddenly she turned pale and fell back in her chair, while the wine glass was shattered on the floor.
"I'm dying," she gasped. A stream of blood trickled from her lips. A surgeon was called.
"I can do nothing; she is dead," he said.
The body was taken to the city morgue. There it lies unclaimed. The dead woman had no one to call her friend and must sleep in the pottersfield. Her fine garments will be sold to pay the expense of burial. Her parents live on a New Hampshire farm.
SOURCE: Los Angeles Herald, Volume 26, Number 235, 23 May 1897, page 1.
Her Clothes Will Pay the Burial Charges
BOSTON, May 22.--Hattie Francis, a beautiful blonde of 23 years, handsomely attired, sat at a table in the most fashionable cafe in the city Thursday night. She smiled across the cloth at her escort, a well-known young man about town, and raising a glass of wine to her lips with the words "Here's to you," was about to drink.
Suddenly she turned pale and fell back in her chair, while the wine glass was shattered on the floor.
"I'm dying," she gasped. A stream of blood trickled from her lips. A surgeon was called.
"I can do nothing; she is dead," he said.
The body was taken to the city morgue. There it lies unclaimed. The dead woman had no one to call her friend and must sleep in the pottersfield. Her fine garments will be sold to pay the expense of burial. Her parents live on a New Hampshire farm.
SOURCE: Los Angeles Herald, Volume 26, Number 235, 23 May 1897, page 1.
BOSTON, May 22.--Hattie Francis, a beautiful blonde of 23 years, handsomely attired, sat at a table in the most fashionable cafe in the city Thursday night. She smiled across the cloth at her escort, a well-known young man about town, and raising a glass of wine to her lips with the words "Here's to you," was about to drink.
Suddenly she turned pale and fell back in her chair, while the wine glass was shattered on the floor.
"I'm dying," she gasped. A stream of blood trickled from her lips. A surgeon was called.
"I can do nothing; she is dead," he said.
The body was taken to the city morgue. There it lies unclaimed. The dead woman had no one to call her friend and must sleep in the pottersfield. Her fine garments will be sold to pay the expense of burial. Her parents live on a New Hampshire farm.
SOURCE: Los Angeles Herald, Volume 26, Number 235, 23 May 1897, page 1.
Advertisement
Advertisement
