Father	Mother
Corydon Fairchild	Martha R. Spencer

Ovid Bee - November, 14, 1860
BIRTH-DAY PARTY. -- Young America to the number of thirty or forty, of both sexes, responded to the call of our Freddie, to attend a party, given at her Father's residence, on Wednesday evening last, on the occasion of her twelfth birth-day anniversary.  It was a very pleasant affair, and all seemed highly delighted.  To see so many of about her own age enjoying themselves to such an extent, was a sight gratifying to behold.

Mrs. Britton made it the occasion of remembering us, by presenting Freddie with a beautify net work head dress, as a birth-day present.  This memento, and more particularly the kindness that prompted the gift, will long be remembered -- as well as the many smiling faces there assembled.

Ovid Bee - June 24, 1868
DIED – At Geneva, June 22d, after a short illness, (inflammation of the brain) FREDRIKA LEORA, second daughter of the editor of this paper.

The deceased had been in school at Lima – She was accompanying her father home on Monday 15th inst., after struggling a week or ten days resisting an attack of disease.  Arriving at Geneva, she became delirious, and by advice was left in charge of Dr. A. B. SMITH; where she received every care and attention that could be rendered.  Her mother went to her bedside next morning, and scarcely left it until it so happened she alone saw her daughter breathe her last.  God has some wise purpose in this dispensation, and we bow to His behest.  Religion would be of little worth without this submission and the Grace to bear our afflictions – however severe.  FREDDIE was good, eminently so – and prompt to perform all her christian duties.  She has gone safely.  “Gone before, not lost.”

Ovid Bee - July 15, 1868
We thank our contemporaries for the kindly manner in which they have expressed their sympathy toward our deeply bereaved family and self in the recent loss of a much beloved sister and daughter.  The blow, from its suddenness and being entirely unexpected, fell heavily upon all our hearts.  Short sighted creatures that we are, it is not for us to divine the reason or question the wisdom of Him “who is too wise to err, too good to be unkind and doeth all things well.” -- Therefore, though our hearts lie torn and bleeding, we desire to sink into His will, striving not to murmur or repine at this dispensation of Providence, however great the mystery.  We cannot see the end from the beginning, as God, can, else all would now be explained.  ‘Tis well we cannot look into the future, for being powerless to change a single decree of the Almighty, we should only be made miserable by the knowledge, no favor, thus granted.  All will be made clear to us in the hereafter to which we are so rapidly tending.  Let us all strive to be patient and submissive, no matter how seemingly grevious [sic] to the flesh.

Ovid Bee - August 12, 1868
“WEEP NOT” – We have received so many letters of condolence and sympathy from warm-hearted friends and relatives, we scarcely know which most to appreciate.  All were to the point and very appropriate.  The writers are held in kindly remembrance.  One, a much beloved relative, warmly attached to our Freddie, encloses us the lines entitled as above, dedicating them to her memory – which we have deemed worthy a place,

“WEEP NOT.”
Weep not for her!—she died in early youth
Ere hope had lost its rich romantic hue,
When human bosoms in seem’d the homes of truth,
And earth still gleam’d with beauty’s radiant dew,
Her summer prime wan’d not to days that freeze,
Her wine of life was run not to the lees!
Weep not for her!

Weep not for her! – It was not here to feel
The miseries that corrode amassing years
‘Gainst dreams of baffled bliss the heart to steel,
To wander sad, down life’s vale of tears;
As whirl the withered leaves from friendship’s tree.
And on Earth’s wintry world alone to be;
Weep not for her!

Weep not for her! – There is no cause for woe,
But rather nerve the spirit, that it walk
Unshrinking o’er the thorny paths below;
And from earth’s low defilement keep thee back
So when a few, fleet, severing years have flown,
She’ll meet thee at Heaven’s gate and lead thee on
Weep not for her!
 

References:
The Ovid Bee - Editorial Columns