A Wayside Harvest [pp. 402-411]

A WAYSIDE HARVEST.
the sound of their sobbing, for tears were
shed,-stiff, bitter, unaccustomed tears.
Let no one doubt but they were genuine,
-She would never have doubted.
She lay there very quietly, but on her
lips was the same message that had been
there in life. It was wonderful, the subtilty and variety of expression in her
face. It was as if some magic mirror
presented to each spectator all that which
a dilatory conscience had long neglected.
Those who had hated her, might hate
her still, for the face was as austere, as
condemning, as the small and mean had
ever found it. Those who had thought
her queer, might still think her queer,
for there was in her expression the same
lofty disregard for conventionalities, for
proprieties, which had ever characterized
her. She had always been untrammeled
and direct. One could fancy that, unheralded, she had confronted Him with,
"Lord, I have this day brought unto
Thee a soul! " and prostrated herself at
His feet. And those who had loved her,
might love her still, and looking at that
face, see nothing there to mar its
charity, compassion, and boundless sympathy. To the sad old world, the world
that suffered, the world with " pariah
stamped in red upon its brow, she would
still be as she had ever been, a friend
and a symbol of Hope. Dear face!
dear, patient, yearning, unsatisfied face!
the prayer is over.
It was but a short distance to the
church, and the pall-bearers carried her
there. First came the home pastor and
a brother clergyman, pacing slowly,
slowly; then She came, borne by her
six pall-bearers, alone, apart, as she had
always been when among the orderly
and the elect; then the Mourners, two
and two; the Respectable group which
had gathered at Mrs. Speers's gate, and
more Respectable People who were loitering on the way. Never before had she
done anything so correctly, so properly.
She, who always forgot something, who
always hurried to catch trains, who was
always late,-bonnet awry and wisps'of
gray hair flying,-passed slowly, slowly
on, - nothing forgotten, nothing neglected.
"Humph!" in whisper, "one family!
Too bad she could n't see it! "
"It's the will of God. Nothing else
would ever have brought them together!"
"I guess she would have been willing
to die if she could just have seen that.
They look like brothers and sisters! "
"They had n't spoke for years! Her
children thought hisn wa'n't good enough,
and his just thought they'd show'em!"
At the church door was a motley
crowd, an unorganized, ill-dressed, surging crowd. Her crowd. Among them
the over-dressed women looked aggressively prosperous. Silently they parted
to the right and to the left, silently they
stood and waited, and each head was
bare. Through these ranks they passed,
-the Ministers, the Pall-Bearers, the
Mourners, the Respectable People, two
and two. Into the church, well to the
front, they went and took tieir seats.
Then came the crowd, not two and two,
but jostling, pushing, yet silently-for
them.
"Move along, can't you!
"Get off my toes, damn you! God
forgive me! "
" There's a seat. Can't you get it?
Hsh-sh!"
Hsh-sh!
"Hsh-sh-sh!
They took all the vacant seats and
filled the aisles, but they did not crowd
in front; they did not venture near the
reserved seats; they respected the Mourners.
There was a prayer, a hymn, and a
sermon,-a short sermon, but one re
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