Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1893-04-02

Of Signs. then walked through the
| courtyard Of the DOges palace into the
great solemn shadows of ST. Marks. 1
shall never forget the odor of the in
censc and the ROBBED priests and The slow
intonings;. Such crowds of people, all
kheelingW
Parepa looked intently into my eyes
and softly laughed In her queer little
italian way. "And," she went on, "thon
you took me 10 your church whore your
priest read song out of book, and ihe
men and women were very seller look
ing and sang NO slow, why | can slug
that little sons now | have never for
gotten IT,"
Parepa folded her hands exactly like
the Scotch Presbyterian folk Of the small
English church Ia Venice On the Grand
canal and snng slowly one verse Of our
my God" to the old tune of Canaan.
How everybody stared ut yau when
you joined in and sang ! s0id.
The snow had now turned into sleet
great chill fell over the whole city. We
looked out of our Windows, peeping
people as they rushed past.
A sharp rap on my door John thrust
In note.
My Dear Friend Can you Come? An
ME has gone She said you would be
sure TO come 10 her funeral. She spoke
Of you to the last. She will be buried
/ laid the poor little blotted note ia
parepa's hand. How 10 stornedl We
looked into each others fnces helplessly.
i said, "Dear, must go: but you sit by
the fire and rest III be at home IA two
hours. And poor Annie has gomez
'Tell me about II Mary, for j am go
Ing with you" she answered.
She threw on her heavy cloak, wound
her long white wool scarf closely about
her throat drew on her wooden gloves,
and we set out together In the Wlld
Easter storm
Annie's mother was dressmaker, and
sewed for me and my friends She was
loft a widow when her one little girl
was s years old Her husband was
drowned on the Jersey coast, aud out Of
binding pain and loss and anguish had
grown Il sort Of idolntry for the delicate,
beautiful child whose brown eyes looked
like the young husbands.
For fifteen years this mother had loved
aud worked for Annie, her whole being
going out 10 bless her one child, i mad
grown fond of them; and IN small ways
with books and flowers, outings aud
simple pleasures, j had made myself
dear 10 them. The end Of the delicate
girls life had not seemed 20 rear though
her doom had been lowering about her
for years
nNN AhVAhnA ~ NAA WV ~ - hHWA Wv
Easter lilies from my window shelf, and
wrapped them In thick papers and bid
them out Of the storm under my cloak.
] knew there would be no other flowers
In their wrotched room. How endless
was the way 10 this east side tenement
housed No elevated roads no rapid tram
sitl across the great city then, as there
are now. Al last we reached the place,
On the street stood the canvas-covered
hearse, known only 10 the poor.
We climbed flight after flight Of mar
row dark stairs 10 the small upper
rooms In the middle Of the floor stood
a stained coffin, lined with std, rafting
cambrc and cheap gauze, resting on un-
covered tfestles Of wood.
We each took the mothers hand and
stood moment with her, silent. All
hope had gone out Of her face. She
shed no tears, but as l held her cold
hand, ] felt n shudder go over her, but
she neither spoke nor sObbed.
The driving storm had made ny late,
and the plain, Woodworking people sat
shfiy arninst the walls. Some one gave
Us chairs and We sat close 20 the mother
The minister came ia, blunt, hard
looking man. scf-kuihcient and formal
A woman said the undertaken brought
hm. Icier than the pitiless storm out
side. yes, colder than Ice were his words.
He read a few verses from the Bible and
warned the bereayod mother against
rebellion at the divine DEGREES" He
made prayer and was gone.
A dreadful hush fell over the small