Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-05-19
A SAD FUNERAL,

SAD FUNERAL,
You will be sorry to hear, and so will
good friends in Brandon regret to know
that Mary F., the beloved daughter of
VIM. t. Blodgett and Abbie B. Blodgett,
aged ten years, was yesterday planted in
the ground to await her joyful resurrec.
ton. 1t was my sad privilege to attend
the funeral at No. 1872, Fifth Avenue.
This is one of the largest and most ele-
CANT houses in New York. 1t was filled
with friends, on Saturday morning, of Mr..
and Mrs. Blodgett, and such friends We
saw there, as the officiating clergymen,
the Rev. DR.. Tying, and his assistant,
the Bev. William N. McVickar, editors
Chalres A. Dana, Parke Goodwin, several
authors, and several of the most distin-
guished artists, Col. Frank E. Howe, and
some other we'll known Vermonters from
different parts of Vermont, and two
friends from st. Adams. The casket was
loaded with the choicest white flowers.
Several crosses of fragrant lilies and ex-
quisite workmanship, and one flower
stand of elegant design, representing a
harp, stood near the coffin of the beautiful
daughter sleeping in death. She, not 1,
was wholly unmindful of the magnificent
paintings which hung in the loom where
the unrivalled burial service of the Epis-
copal church was said. and among them
upon which my eye would hnger, was the
celebrated original oil painting of the
" Heart of the Andes" What
were all these cultivated men and
women, what were all these poets,
authors, artists, men of wealth, men
and women of fashion, these evidences of
rare taste and fond regard now to the
dear child who, with her snowy hands
crossing her breast was unmiDdful Of the
tears of mourning friends, or OF the
tokens of affection which cultivated taste
and most loving regard could bedeck her
coffin? She had gone on Gd dstrd before
She had already seen the true cross, and
heard the never ceasing harp which
sounded praises to the Lamb who loved
/ lithle Cn1LuCSn
forbid them not bat suffer little ones to
come unto Him. On the coffin lay q
beautiful and snowy white wreath, upon
which the word "Pussie" was wrought in
purple fowers-that being the pet name
which loving lips had always called he1
from her childhood. Such then were the
parlors, and such the surroundings when
the Rev. DR.. Tying read the service ap
pointed in the Book of Common Prayer
with as much feeling as could well be ex
pressed. There was no funeral hymn OF
chant, an omission which me jWG75ce, de
tracted in a measure from the solemnity
of this sad occasion. II "Nearer my Coo
to Thee" as many amateurs present coult
have sung that hymn, the whole service
would have been perfect, inasmuch as DR.
Tying made to those present an address o
great appropriateness, of deep feeling
great tenderness, in fact. Looking stead
, lastly at Vermont gentlewoman of hi
congregation who had buried three littl
ones in three successive weeks, who die
of typhoid fever some time ago, ant
whose funerals hs successfully attended
he remarked that death swung his re
lentless scythe and cut down those who's
blossoming life gave promise of gloriou
fruitage of merit and virtue. DIR. Tying
extemporaneous remarks were made wit
SO much eloquent tenderness that tear
ran down many cheek. The service an
the closing remarks being over, the
barred sweet darling "P ussie" in the cold
cold ground on a sunshiney day, the mos
balmy of the spring.
Let me hope that you will excuse To
length of this letter, and allow me t
postpone all other particulars to a MOI
suspicious, and not distant, occasion.
In the meanwhile, / remain, till th
last crust, cordially yours.
, SUM CUIQUE, REDIvIyUs.
r THE STEAMSHIP CRY OF BosToN.-
: The Troy Wig says: Has the City
q Boston gone to that watery bourne whenC
4 M shin raturna IN GLADDEN. Y,nrts bv ~