The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1884-04-11
parepa Rosa. the Great Singer. alta
Funeral.

-1OA Wt1 IN "a " H&AN N~N~ O~
thing dear to her-her only child
Mother and daughter had toiled to-
gether for fifteen years, and the only
bit of sunshine falling into their lives
was hat shed by their loving compan
ionship, But the girl had always been
weakly. Under the heart-broken
mothers eyes she faded and wasted away
with consumption, and at last the day
came when the wan face failed to answer
with a smile the anxious, tear-blinded
eyes of the mother. The poor young
young creature was dead.
For many months the pair had been
supported by the elder woman's sewing
and it was in the character Of an employ
er that / become acquainted with Mrs.
c. and her story. BY an occasional visit
to the awful heights of an East side ten
ement, where they lived, hy a few books
and some comforting words, | had won
the love of the dying girl. Her
grateful thoughts turned in her last
hours to the small number OF friends
she possessed, and she besought her
mother to notify me of the day of the
funeral and ask me to attend.
That summons reached me upon one
of the widest DAYS preceding Christ
mas. A sleet That was not rain and a
rain TINT was not snow, came pelting
from all points of the compass. piled
the glowing CRATES; / drew closer the
curtains and shut out the gloom of the
December afternoon; i turned on the
gas and sat down, devoutly thankful
that / had cut oil connection with the
wicked weather when an instalment of
it burst in upon me in the shape of
Parepa Rosa. She was Euphrosyne
Parepa at that time, and the operate
idol of the city.
And even as we congratulated
selves. on the prospect of q delightful
Gay together, there came the summons
for me to 60 to the humble funeral of
the poor sewing-woman's daughter.
This is terriblel" said L TITS isst
the one errand that could take me out
to-day, but Unjust GO"
And then j told Parepa the circum-
stances, and speculated on the length
of time / should be gone, and suggested
means of amusement in my absence.
"But L shall go with YOU" said the
great hearted creature.
So she rewound her throat with the
long white comforter, pulled on her
worsted gloves, and off in the storm we
went together. We climbed fight af-
ter fight of narrow, dark stairs to the
top floor, where the widow dwelt In a
miserable little room not more than q
dozen feet square. The canvas-back
hearse, peculiar to the twenty-five-dol-
lar funeral, stood in the street below,
and the awful cherry-stained box, with
its rufle Of glazed white muslin, stood
on uncovered t~restles in the centre of
the room above.
There was the mother, speechless
in her grief, beside that Eox, a group of
Woodworking, kindly hearted neigh
hors sitting about. 1t was useless
to say the poor woman was prepared.
for the inevitable end; it was cold
comfort to speak to her of the daughter's
release frcla pain and suffering. The
bereft creature, in her inter
loneliness, was thinking Of herself and
the awful future, of the approaching
moment when that box and its precious
burden would be taken away and leave
her wholly alone. So, therefore, With
a sympathizing grasp of the poor, worn,
bony hand, we sat silently down to
attend the funeral"
Then the minister came ina dry,
self-sufficient man, with nothing of the
tenderness of his holy calling about
him. Ieier than the day, colder than the
storm, he ratified through some selected
sentences from the Bible, and offered q
set form Of coincidence to the broken
hearted mother, telling her of her sin in
rebelling against the DEGREES Of Irovi-
dence, and assuring her that nothing
could bring back the dead.
Then he hurriedly departed,
while a hush fell on everybody
gathered ia the little room. Not n
word had been uttered OF consolation,
Of solemn import or BETTING the occa-
sion. 1t was the emptiest, hollowest,
most unsatisfactory moment l ever re-
member. Then Parepa arose her cloak
falling about her noble figure like
mourning drapery. She stood beside
that miserable cherry-stained box. She
looked o moment on the wasted ashY
face, upturned toward her from within
it. She laid her soft white hand upon
the forehead of the dead girl, and she
lifted up that matchless voice in the
beautiful melody
Angels ever bright and fair
Take, oh take her to thy care.
The noble voice swelIed toward
| heaven, and il ever the elloirs Of para
disc paused to listen to earth's music,
it was when Parepa sang so gloriousIy
beside that poor dead girl. No words
can describe its effect on those gathered
there. The sad mourner sank on Der