Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1898-04-02
FROsTBURG, Md, SATURDAY, APRIL 2, 1898.

from pain ana SuIIeT1nS. lO9 DerS1t
creature, i'll 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 a screw
driver i'll his hand, jumped about i'll the
passage to keep warm. The creaky boots
of the minister belonging to the S25
funeral We're heard on the STAIRS. There
was catarrhal conversation held out
side between them as to the enOrnity of
the weather, and probably the 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, a regular Stiggins as to
get up-a dry, self = tlicient man, icier
than the day and colder than the storm.
He deposited his hat and btN;k gloves
and wet umbrella on the poor little bed
i'll the corner; he slapped his hands Wig
well meritcd 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 Sc
lected sentences from the Bible. He
gave us prayer that sounded like peas
i'll dried bladder, and he came to amen
with a jerk that brought me up like a
patent snap. He pulled on his old gloves
and grabbed his rusty hat, and with his
umbrella dripping inky tears over the
well scrubbed floor, he offered set form
of coincidence to the broken hearted
mother. He told her of her sin i'll rebel
ling against the decree of Providence.
He assured her that nothing could bring
the dead back He inveighed against the
folly of the world in general, and then
he made horrible blunder and showed
he didn t know even the sex of the dead
by saying, "He cannot come to you, but
you must go to him."
This was settler for Parepa and my
self. We looked at the departing minis
ter in blank astonishment.
The door swung wide; we saw the
screwdriver 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-
tion. 1t was the emptiest, hollowest,
most unsatisfactory moment ever re-
member.
Then Parepa arose, her cloak falling
about her noble figure like mourning
drapery. She stood beside that miser-
able cherry wood box. She looked
moment Oh the pinched, wasted, ashy
face upturned toward her from within
it. 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, oh, take her, to your care
The screwdriver paused in describing
an airy circle The wet umbrella stood
pointing down the stairs. The two men
with astonished faces We're foremost in
crowd that instantly filled the passage.
The noble voice swelled toward heaven,
and if ever the choir of paradise paused
to listen to earth S music it was when
Parepa sang so gloriously beside that
poor dead girl.
No words can describe it's effect ON
those gathered there. The sad mourner
sank on her knees, and with clasped
hands and streaming eyes the little band
stood reverently about her.
No queen ever went to her grave ac-
companied by grander ceremony. To
this day Parepas glorious tribute of
song rings with solemn melody in my
memory as the only real, impressive
funeral service l ever heard. Planets
and People" "