The Sauk Centre herald. (Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minn.) 1886-current, 1898-01-27
A TRIBUTE OF SONG.

There is no place on earth where ut
ter helplessness comes out SO strongly,
where the ceremonies in human use fall
10 powerless before the majesty Of the
occasion, as at funeral. 1t need not be
that ones heart shall be interested. The
obsequies of a stranger conducted with
all the pomp and vanity of church and
state, with the melancholy rolling drum
of the military funeral, or the gorgeous
ness of the Masonic regalia apron-all
are alike inadequate and unavailing.
But once in my life have witnessed
q ceremony that was so grand, impress
i've and appropriate to the silent, awful
occasion.
Twill tell You of funeral which
fingers in my memory as the grandest,
most solemn and befitting ceremony that
was ever given to the dead.
1t was rumored many years ago that
a poor widowed woman, leading hard
life of unending labor, was called to
part with the one thing dear to her-her
only child. Mother and daughter had
toiled together for Is years, and the
only bit of sunshine falling into their
dark lives was that shed by their loving
companionship. But the girl had al
ways been sickly. Under the heart
broken mothers eyes she had faded and
wasted away with consumption, and at
last the day came when the wan face
failed to answer with it's CHASTITY smile
the anxious tear blinded eyes of the
mother.
The poor young creature was dead.
For many months the pair had been sup
ported by the elder woman's sewing,
and it was in the character of employer
i had become acquainted with Mrs.
Cramp and her story. By an occasional
visit to the awful heights of an east side
tenement where they lived, by few
books and with 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 &c notify NE Of the day of her
funeral and ask me to attend.
The summons reached me upon one
of the widest days Of winter. A sleet
that was not rain and a rain that was
not snow came pelting from all points
of the compass. A wind that walled in
the chimney and howled in the street
told low :Tuly dreadful for outdoor pur-
poses was the weather of the day. Ipiled
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 l had cut all connection with the
witched weather, when an installment
of it burst in on me in the shape of
Parepa Rosa. She was Euphrosyne
Parepa at that time, and the operatic
idol of the city. Muf1ed with tippets,
decked with snow, glowing with the
short encounter she had had with the
elements rushing up the steps from her
carriage, she threw herself into an easy
chair and proclaimed the horrors of the
outer world to be beyond description.
And even as we congratulated our
selves OH the prospect Of delightful
day together there came the summons
for me to 60 to the humble funeral of
the poor sewing woman's daughter. I
turned the little tear blotted note over
and groaned.
"This is terrible" said L "It's just
the one errand that could take me out
today, but must 60" And then told
Parepa the circumstances and speculated
ON the length of time should be gone
and suggested means of amusement in
my absence. - ...
"But shall go with you," said the
great, good hearted creature.
"Your throat and old Bateman and
your concert tonight" pleaded.
''If get another froggy' note in my
voice, it won't matter much; I'm hoarse
rs raven now," she returned.
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 after
flight of narrow, dark stairs to the top
6oor, where the widow dwelt in a mis-
cradle little room not more than dozen
feet square. The canvasback hearse, Pc
culiar to the $25 funeral, stood in the
street below, and the awful cherry
stained box, with its rufhe of glazed
white muslin, stood on uncovered tres
ties in the center Of the room above.
There was the mother. speechless i'm
her grief, before that box--a group of
hard working, kindly hearted neighbors
sitting about It was useless to say the
poor woman was prepared for the in
eyitable end-it was cold comfort to
speak to her Of the daughters release
from pain and suffering. The bereft
creature. in her utter loneliness was
thinking Of herself and the awful fate
-of the approaching moment when
that box and its precious burden would
10 taken away and leave her wholly