The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-04-07
pARBpA RosAs EASTER DIFFERING.
The Great Singers Vocal Tribute
Over the Coffin of Poor Girl.

Myra s. Delano in Success.
''Myra, this is perfect rest!'' exclaimed Parepa-
I'VE shall be quite alone for four hours.
yes, four long hours There will be no re-
hearsals; nobody else knows where you are
Parepa laughed merriy at the idea and wen
of our large New York churches. and had in
sisted upon her going home with me We We're
friends in Italy, and so she readily consented
But by the sky was overcast and gray.
Down came the snow, whitening streets and
roofs. The wind swept icy bre&ths from the
water it came up from the bay and rl.e[.ed
past the city spires and over tail buildings,
whirling around the in wild gusts. We
hurried home, and sat close to the IRE Eer an
afternoons enjoyment.
There was a sharp rap at the door. and note
thrust in. II read
My Dear Friend-Can you come? Annie haz
gone. She said YOU would be sure TO come TO her
funeral. She spoke Of you to the last. She VIII
be buried at 4.
ION, dear ! must 60" said ]. 'sbut you sit
by the fire and rest. I'll be home in two hours.
And So poor Annie has gone!
Tell me about it. Myra,' said Parepa, for
goinG with you;'' and, after I had told tbs
story, threw her heavy cloak. wound her
long white wooden scarf about her throat drew
on her gloves, and we set out together in the
The driving wind made us late, and we found
the Woodworking friends sitting stifIy against
A MIN ame brought as mere matter OF
formalf undertaken. Icier than the piti-
less ste .thout colder than the grave were
his le read few verses from the Bible.
warned bereaved mother against rebellion
at the divine DEGREES" made brief prayer aud
The undertaken looked at the great singer and
me. as II to say, TITS time to 60"
Without word Parepa rose and walked to
on empty chair, threw her cloak back from
her shoulders, where it fell in long. soft black
lines from her noble figure, like the drapery OF
mourning. She laid her soft, fair hand the
cold forehead, passing 1t tenderIy over this
wasted, delicate face, looked down at the dead
girl n0ment, removed some Easter lilies had
bought from the stained box to the thin fingers
and with illumined eyes sang the glorious mel
ody:
ANGELS. ever bright and fair.
Take, oh, take her to thy care.
Her voice rose and fell in all its richness ana
power and beauty and pity. She looked above
the dingy room and the tired faces OF men and
hearts. She threw back her head and sang till
the choirs OF Paradise must have paused to listen
to the Easter music Of that day.
She passed her hands caressingly over the
girls soft, dark hair, and sang on--and on:
Take, oh. take her to thy care
The mothers face grew rapt and white. Sud-
denly she threw my hand off and knelt at Pa
rcpa's feet close to the wooden trestles She
locked her fingers together, tears and sobs break
ing forth. She prayed aloud that God would
to her seat as the last grand notes OF Parepa'e
voice rose triumphant over all earthly pain ana
sorrow
thought that no queen ever went to her grave
of poverty and toll, committed to the care of
the angels.
That night thousands listened to Parepa'x
matchless voice Applause rose to the skies, and
her own face was gloriously swept with emotion
Joined in the enthusiasm; but, above the glitter
and the shimmering of jewels and dress, ana tn q
heavy odors of Easter flowers, the sea CO gmitsfH
faces, and the murmur Of voices above the sleek
/ could hear Parepa's voice singing up TO heavens
Take, oh! take her TO thy care!"