The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1901-04-09
CHAPTER XIX.
A SYMPATHETIC FRIEND.

The next day was the day of Aga
tha's funeral.
She was to be buried in Dorchester.
by the side of her six children. and. as
the day was fine. the whole town. as
by common consent, assembled in the
road along which the humble cortege
was to make its way to the spot indi-
Gated.
From the windows Of farmhouses,
from between the trees of the few
scattered thiclets along the way. sad
dened and curious faces looked forth,
till Sweetwater. who walked as near
as he dared to the immediate friends
of the deceased. felt the impossibility
of remembering them all and gave up
the task in despair.
Before one house. about a mile out
Of town. the procession paused. and at
a gesture from the minister every one
within sight took off their hats. amid
hush which made almost painfully ap-
parent the twittering of birds anu the
other sounds of animate and mani
mate nature which are inseparable
from country road. They had reach
ed Widow Jones cottage. in which
Philemon was then staying.
The front door was closed and so
were the lower windows but ii one of
the upper easements a movement was
perceptible, and in another instant
there came into view a woman and
man. supporting between them the inn
passible form of Agathas husband
Holding him up in plain sight of the
almost GREATNESS throng below. the
woman pointed to where his darling
lay and appeared to say something to
him
Then there was to be seen strange
S sight The old man. with his thin
white locks futtering in the breeze.
leaned forward. with a smile and,
holding out his arms. cried in ~ faint
but joyful tone. Agatha" Then, as if
realizing for the first time that it was
death he looked upon and that the
crowd below was a funeral procession
his face altered, and he fell back, with
a low, heartbroken moan, into the arms
of those who supported him.
As Ills white head disappeared from
sight the procession moved on. and
from only one pair of lips went up that
groan of sorrow with which every
heart seemed surcharged-one groan.
From whose lips did it come? Sweet
water endeavored to find out but was
not able, nor could rany one inform
him unless it was MI. Sutherland.
whom he dared not approach.
This gentleman was on foot like the
rest, with his arm fast linked in that
of his son Frederick. He had meant
to ride, for the distance was long for
men past Co. but. finding the latter re-
solved to walk, he had consented to do
the same rather than be separated
from his son.
He had fears for Frederick-he could
hardly have told why-and as the GER
emory proceeded and Agatha was SOL
EMMY laid away in the place prepared
for her his sympathies grew upon him
to such an extent that he found it diff
ficult to quit the young man fer a mo-
ment or even to turn his eyes, away
know till now. But as a friend and
stranger were now rapidly leaving the
yard he controlled himself and, assum-
ing more natural demeanor, asked his
son If he were now ready to ride back.
But, to his establishment, Frederick re-
piled that he did not intend to return
to Sutherlandtown at present, that he
had business in Dorchester and that
he was doubtful as to when he would
be ready to go home. AS the old gen
t!eman did not wish to raise contro-
versy, he said nothing, but as soon as
he saw Frederick disappear up the