Connecticut western news., 1889-10-16
DADS FAVORTTE GAL.

DADS FAVORITE GAL.
 had been assisting in decorating the little Episcopal church, and as we stood at the door before leaving. some one remarked, "The church is dressed, as if for bride." Then, as we stood chatting, lad with red hair came to the foot of the steps and beckoned to me, and saw he had been weeping. He said abruptly:
 s'My name's Smith. Sis is dead, and Dad says will you ask parson to be here at o'clock? And will your folks join in with the funeral when we pass your house? Cause Sis funeral is go- ing to be so small. There ain't many wagons out our way nohow.
 '1Dad's got powerful heap of friends in the country; butts too fur for em to walk in. Sis done took a notion to be brought here, cause she belonged to this church; and Dad told CT fore she died not to be oneasy about it, he'd bring her liisself, and it was a sight of comfort to Sis. Neighbor Jones told Dad he'd drive the wagon with the coffin. Dad thanked him, but he'd promised Sis hisself, he lowed. Guess kin tell Dad you'll speak to the parson? It would make his mind easy like, cause he said he knowed your pa and he was likely man, al- ways a-sticking to a-doing what he said."
 ''Indeed you can," replied, and then inquired if his sister had long been i'll.
 "She ain't never been sick at all but 'bout year ago Sis beau, Alec, fell of schoo, CT and was drowned. She ain't-ever lad no courage since, and took to gettin' poor lookin' and white, and coughcd most of the time. The doctor flowed it was sumption; but no one ever hearn Sis say nothin' ailed
 
 her, 'ceptin' she was tired.
 "Dad took on powerful the night fore she died; said she was his favor ite gal, and he just couldn't gin her up nohow and laid his head on the bed and cried like baby; but Sis done raised herself up. sprightly, she pats Dad on the head, and says sort'er pleadin' like, Dad, let me go; sin't ever goin' to be tired no more, and Daddy, I'll see Alec soon: think on that Sis put her hand in his'n am kinder smiled at him like child, and Dad never let go on it till the sun was arising, when she gin q big sigh, and they told Dad she was gone.
 "Dad, he's mighty quiet; he done made the coffin hisself-for Dads { carpenter, you know-he covered it al with white, and it looks powerful neat He ain't let one on us lay finger or it to help him, he aint.'
 Then the poor lad, completely over come, sobbed aloud, pulled his cal over his eyes and started off at sharI pace as l stood where he had left me brushing the tears from my own eyes he called back:
 "I say, Miss, if we are late yol won't let the parson give us up, vii you?" Cause the spokes in that dang wagon Dad borrowed is powerful weak and we will have to come them eigh miles creepy like"
 Unanswered him the parson would wait until midnight if necessary, ant indeed the last rays of the sun wer getting low when I joined the sad little cortege coming so slow down tn street; two horsemen ahead, then Da( driving the shabby little wagon with | white sheet thrown over it to protec the white coffin, which looked weir, in the waning light; then followed thre or four dilapidated vehicles wit mOurners, and that was Sis funeral Y As we turned the corner to tn ehurchyard the tolling of the bell be gan, and when we reached the church Dad got down, and with trenholm, hands led the wagon to the very steps and only then was he able, at the foo of the little Greek cross, to give he into other hands.
 To the solemn words, sI am the res mrrection and the life," we entere the church. Surely, I think, eth peace of God, which passeth all under atanding," is there. The last rays 0 sunlight had touched the stained glas windows, and the beautiful little ed ice was all agiow with crimson an gold light. It touches tenderly th