The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1851-09-04
GERVAISE WYLVERTON,
A SKETCH.
CHAPrER L

CHAPTER /.
1t was grand funeral Quite different affair
from the humble, mournful professions that at
long intervals, wind through the village streets,
when friend or neighbor lily-lik maiden or bud
ding childhood is consigned to the bosom Of our
mother earth. Yes, it 'pas grand, that car-like
hearse, with it's heavy funeral trappings-the long
cortege of carriages that followed, the white foam
feoking the breasts of the FESTIVE horses and the
heavily plated harnesses, cleaning and glittering
through the clouds of dust which, seen through
the westering beams Of an August sun, might he
taken for an auroral enveloping the whole pageant,
well BETTING the last exit Of one who had sacri-
feed the hottest, purest impulses Of her heart to
obtain H.
Though the husbandman left the harvest field,
the mechanic his shop, the busy housewife and
blooming maiden their household cares and even
the restless denizens of the school-house their
tasks, to Join that procession and pay their re-
spects to the dead as had been the custom Of their
fathers, yet there was an expression Of wonder
and susscsssyfn their faces, bsndedwith that awe
which such a scene ever created In the mind of
MAN that Is born Of woman that indicated,
that, for them, this lesson of mortality had lost
much of its usual impressiveness True, they
knew little of the tenant Of that splendid coffin
That Rosamond Dslrymple-born Rossmond
Golding-had, during the short illness that pre-
ceded her death, made it her request to be
brought back to her native village, and laid by
the side Of her parents, was well known to them
ALL and, some there, even, who had heard from
their mothers and grandmothers, descriptions Of
her girlish beauty, and her marriage with rich
Mr.. Dalrymple they never forgot to mention
that he was q weakly sort Of body, with some dis
ease in his eyes,) together with such accounts Of
his wealth and the msgnihcence Of her establish
ment, as had been brought back, from time to
time, by such adventurous spirits as had visited
the city where she lived reports truly marvel
lous in themselves, and which lost nothing from
the circumstance that in the course of years they
became strangely mingled up with the memories
of old fairy tales-the splendor of " Cinderella"
and Beauty and the Beast'-but, personally,
she was q stranger to them
Yet, we mistake; there were a few Of them,
some two or three old gray-besrded, bald-beaded
men, and as many cOifed and kerchiefed danes,
who remembered her well as pretty Rose Gold
ing, the only child Of the Doctors widow These
hobbled eagerly forward, TO catch glimpse Of her
face ere the coffin was lowered into the grave
and IL was curious to mark with what dsappoint-
ed looks they turned away. Old and wrinkled,
L.. A. L. ka1 Larf tha
image OF their friend, just as she was when she
left the village bride, and they could not realize
the change that met them. That might be Rosa
mond Dalrymple; indeed, the massive plate on
the coffin assured them Of the fact but II was not
their Rossmond Goldng So they turned away,
and following in the shade Of the cloud Of Grape
and bombssne that was hastily retreatiDg toward
the carriages, they began to interchange their
opinions In low suppressed tones. At the gate
they made pause, to watch the vehicles as they
dashed down the street SIS If their occupants were
eager 10 overtake the time Of which Death had
so imperiously robbed them, while group OF
loiterers gathered around Them eager to catch all
that might drop from their lips concerning her
whose last obsequies had been attended with 30
much ceremony.
alt is queer enough, >" began old Jasper Weth'
eral, deliberately brushing the dust from the deep
cuff of his Sunday coat, that she, who never set
foot in our village after she left 1t, nigh on to
fly years ago, should have wanted TO be brought
back here to be buriedn
eyes, yes,D gssped old widow Alleine' recover
ing from ht Of coughing for the dust from the
retreating carriages had well nigh choked her,
" and her husband (he like to have outliVed her
after all, they tell me) lying under such grand
marble MONUMENT in St. PauIs church yard,
though, what st. Paul, who was buried away Oh
yonder, more than thousand years ago, has to
do with II, Is more than know. Queer enough,
as you say, neighbOr Wetheral," she added After
pausing to take breath, though II oil stories are
true, she didn't care about getting very near to
him when he was alive.D
GAnd who would think Of being buried under
pile Of marble, when they could have the dat
sizes growing over them ~ broke In the old super
animated singing master, Gideon Dimsdsle, In
voice as shrill as his own pitch-piPe. Hose
Golding had too much sense for that. She was
always a sensible girl, aye, aud pretty one, too
Do you remember Mrs. Alleine, how handsome
che looked the night gave my grand concert in
the old meeting house You can't have forgot
II was the FIRST winter you came to singing school
She looked like q picture; and ! certainly do
Think and the old man gave weight to his con-
viction by an oratorieal flourish, for he had been
A public man In his day, not only hAranguing bis