The White Pine news. [volume] (Treasure City, Nev.) 1868-1906, 1898-01-01
the horrors q the outsr world 10 b D.

the horrors Of the outer world % Be b..
y0nd description.
And even as We congratulated our.
selves On the prospect Of a delightful
day together there came the summons
for me TO go to the humble funeral Of
the poor sewing woman's daughter.
turned the little tear-blotted note over
and groaned.
This Is TERRIBLE said 1; Its just
the one GRAND that could take me out
today; but ! must CO." And then
told PareDa the circumstances and
speculnted on the length of time
should be gone, and suggested means
Of amusement la my absence.
But ! shall go with you" said the
great, good-hearted creature.
Your throat. and old Bateman. and
your concert to-nightg' pleaded.
If get another 'froggy' note In my
voice it won't matter much; I'm hoarsc
as a raven now" she returned.
So she rewound her throat with the
long, white comforter, pulled on her
worsted gloves. and OF in the storm
We went together. We climbed flight
after flight 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 $25 fsneral,
stood In the street below, and the aw-
full cherry-stained box with Its rufiie
of glazed white muslin stood on uncoy-
cred trestles In the center of the room
above.
There was the mother, speechless In
her grief, before that box-a group OF
Woodworking, kindly hearted neigh
bors sitting about. It was useless to
say the poor woman. was prepared for
the Inevitable end-it was cold comfort
to speak to her of the daughters re
lease from pain and suffering. The be-
reft 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
be taken away and leave her wholly
alone So, therefore, with sympathiz-
Ing grasp of the poor. worn, bony hand,
we sat silently down to ATTEND the
funeral
The undertaker's man, with screw
driver in his hand, jumped about In the
passage to keep warm. The creaky
boots of the minister belonging to the
$50 funeral were heard on the stairs.
There was q catarrhal conversation
held outside between them as to the
enormity of the weather, and. probably,
the bad taste of the deceased in select
ing such bad time to die was dis
cussed. Then the minister came In with
a pious sniff and stood revealed, reg
ular Stiggins as to get-up-a dry, self
sufficient man, icier than the day and
colder than the storm.
He deposited his hat and black gloves
and wet umbrella on the poor little bed
In the corner; he slapped his hand Wig
orously together; he took himself In
well-merited fashion by the ears and
pulled them into glowing sensation,
and after thawing out for a moment
plunged into business.
He ratified merrily through some Sc
lected sentences from the Bible. He
gave us prayer that sounded like peas
In a dried bladder, and he came to
amen with jerk that brought me up
like a patent snaffie. He pulled on his
old gloves and grabbed his rusty hat,
and with his umbrella dripping inky
tears over the well-scrubbed floor he
,fa,.od :, uaf f<,.x,, ~ ond<,yrx,<,<, - ~, .,
broken-hearted mother. He told her
Of her sin In rebelling against the de-
cree of Providence. He assured her
that nothing could bring the dead back.
He inyeighed against the folly Of the
world In general, and this poor woman
rible blunder, and showed he didn't
know even the sex of the dead, by say
ing: HE cannot come to you, but you
must go to him."
This was settler for Parepa and
myself. We looked at the departing
minister In blank establishment.
The door swung wide, we saw the
screw-driyer waving in the air as the
undertaker's man held converse with
the clergyman. A hush fell on every
body gathered in the little room. Not
one word had been uttered OF consola-
ton, of solemn import, or BETTING the
occasion. 1t was the emptiest, hollow
est. most unsatisfactory moment l
ever remember.
Then Parepa arose, her cloak falling
about her noble figure like mourning
drapery. She stood beside that miser-
able cherry wood box. She looked a
moment on the pinched, wasted, ashy
face upturned toward her from within
1t. She laid her soft, white hand on the
discolored forehead Of the dead girl, and
she lifted up that matchless voice in
the beautiful melody:
Angels ever bright and fair,
Take me, oh, take her, to your care"
The screw-driyer paused In describ-
ing an airy circle; the wet umbrella
stood pointing down the stairs; the two
men with astonished faces were fore
most in a crowd that instantly filed the
passage. The noble voice sweiled to-
ward heaven, and if ever the choir Of
paradise paused to listen to earth's
music 1t was when Parepa sang SO
gloriously beside that poor dead girl.
No words can describe its effect on
those gathered there. The sad mourner
sank on her knees, and with clasped