The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1898-08-17
A TRIBUTE OF SONG.


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
a ceremony that was SO grand, impress
i've and appropriate to the silent, awful
occasion.
I will tell you Of funeral which
fingers in my memory as the grandest,
most solemn and beftting ceremony that
was ever given to the dead.
| d, 1t was rumored many years ago that
poor widowed woman, leading a hard
life of uncnding labor, was called to
part with the one thing dear to her-her
only child. Mother and daughter had
toiled together for 10 years, and the
only bit of sunshine falling into their
dark lives was that shed by their loving
mpanionship. But the girl had al
ways been sicl1ly, Under the heart.
broken mother's eyes she had faded and
wasted away with consumption, and at
last the day came when the wan face
failed to answer with its 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
l had become acquainted with Mrs.
Cramr and her story. By an occasional
visit tf, ho ri I,oi ri, 90 a. 81,
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 to notify me 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 how truly dreadful for outdoor pur-
poses was the weather Of the day. Ipiled
the glowing CRATES, drew closer tho
curtains and shut out the gloom Of the
December afternoon. l 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 i'll on me in the shape Of
Parepa Rosa. She was Euphrosyne
Parepa at that time, and the operatio
idol of the city. Muffled with tippets,
fleckcd 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 OIL 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 l
turned the little tear blotted note over
and groaned.
'This is TERRIBLE" said l. cts Just
the one errand that could take me out
today. but must CO." And then told
Parepa the circumstances and specialized
on the length of time l 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
as raven now,' she returned
So she rewound her throat with the
long, white comforter, pulled Oh her
worsted gloves, and off In the storm we
went together We climbed fight after
flight of narrow, dark stairs to the top
floor, where the widow dwelt in mis-
cradle little room not more than dozen
feet square. The canvasback hcarse, ne.
culiar to the $25 funeral, stood in the
street below, and the awful cherry
stained box, with its ruftle of glazed
white muslin, stood Oh uncovered tres
ties in the center of the room above
There was the mother, speechlcss in
her grief, before that box--a group Of
hard working, kindly hearted neighbors
sitting about 1t was useless to say tho
poor woman was prepared for the in
svitable end-it was cold comfort to
speak to her of the daughter release
from pain and suffering. The bereft
creature, in her utter loneliness, was
thinking CT herself and the awful fate
of the approaching moment when
that box and its precious burden would
be taken away and leave her wholly
tlone. So, therefore, with a 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 $25
funeral were heard on the stairs. There
was a catarrhal conversation held out
side between them as to the enormity Of
the weather. and probably tho bad taste
Of the deceased in selecting such bad |
time to die was discussed Then the
minister came in with pious sniff and |
stood revealed, regular 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 hands Wig.
orously together he took himself in
we'll merited fashion by the ears and
pulled them into the glowing sensation,
and after thawing out for moment
he plunged into business.
He ratified merrily through some SO.
lected sentences from the Bible. He |
gave us prayer that sounded like peas
in dried bladder, and he came to amen
with jerk that brought me up like
patent spap. He pulled on his old gloves
and grabbed bis rusty bat, and, with bis
umbrella dripping lnky tsaEs oyer To
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