CHAPTER XXIX.
TOM FLANNERY’S FUNERAL.
The grief of the broken hearted mother and the two faithful friends can better be imagined than described. Words, however ably chosen, fail utterly to picture the sufferings of the human heart. In imagination we can see the three bending over the still form of him to whose heart each was attached so firmly. One, a well aged woman, still clinging passionately to the cold hands and moaning with almost frantic grief. Now she presses the lifeless figure to her breast, appealing wildly to it to speak to her, to call her “mother” just once more. Again she falls upon her knees and prays as only one prays with bursting heart, that her boy, her Tom, her only child, her very life, may be restored to her. With her tears are mingled those of Herbert and Bob, whose young spirits overflow with sorrow, not alone for their own loss at the hands of death but at the wild, tumultuous grief of the bereaved mother.
A little later we see the undertaker arrive with all his dread paraphernalia, then the casket, a plain, neat one purchased by Herbert and Bob, in due time receives the dead body.
The funeral follows speedily, and is held in Mrs. Flannery’s rooms. In one of them she lies in bed helplessly ill from grief and utter prostration. All preparations for the burial have been made by Herbert and Bob. The minister arrives, and after a hurried talk with Herbert devotes himself to Mrs. Flannery, trying to lessen her sorrow by such words of consolation and assurance as his calling enables him to speak with something like holy authority.
A tall, fine looking man with a young, sweet faced girl now knocks at the door. They are Mr. Goldwin and his daughter, and the latter brings a cross of flowers for a burial offering. How strangely out of place they seem in these small, barely furnished attic rooms, yet they have come with honest purpose to pay honor to the humble dead. Mr. Goldwin had known of Tom’s brave part in rescuing Herbert from the villains by whom he had been imprisoned. He had at that time sent him a reward, and now he came sorrowfully to mingle his tears with those of the lowly friends of the dead. Ray had begged to come with him, and he was glad to grant her the request, for he felt that she would receive a lesson from this simple funeral such as could not be learned elsewhere.
A delegation of newsboys about the age of the dead now arrived. They had known him well as a rival trader, as a true friend and agreeable companion. They had often asked after him during his illness, and now they came, their bright young faces heavy with sorrow, to follow his remains to the tomb. They brought with them a handsome wreath of flowers bearing the simple word “Tom.”
The casket was carried into the sick room and placed on a table not far from the bed on which Mrs. Flannery lay sobbing. When all had been seated, the minister rose and prayed, such a prayer as is seldom offered. The occasion was an inspiration to the holy man. In all his years of ministry he had never been called upon to attend such a funeral as this—so simple, so strange, and yet so genuinely sad. It was a boy’s funeral, and the audience was composed almost wholly of boys. The casket had been bought by boys, the details of the funeral had been arranged by boys, and boys—nearly a score of them—were there to mourn the loss of their friend. And they were no ordinary boys, with careless, thoughtless manners, but sturdy lads who were almost men in thought, for long, long months had they, like the deceased, had to think and act for themselves.
Mr. Goldwin and Ray, aided to some extent by a few of the boys, sang a hymn, and then the minister, after reading the Bible, gave a feeling and impressive talk that went home to the hearts of every one present. Bob and Herbert could not have felt greater sorrow had the dead been their own brother. They tried, however, to restrain their grief, as everything depended upon them, since Mrs. Flannery was now helpless.
At the close of the service all except Mrs. Flannery passed by the casket, looking for the last time upon the features of the dead boy before the lid was closed. The mother was bolstered up in bed, and the casket was lowered beside her, where she too could view the remains. The pall bearers were selected from the delegation of newsboys, as I think Tom would have wished had he expressed himself upon this point.
In a little time the casket had been placed within the hearse, and this strange funeral party started on its solemn journey to the tomb. Mr. Goldwin and Ray and Herbert and Bob occupied the carriage of chief mourners—not that the two former could strictly be called mourners, but their object in going to the tomb was to comfort the two boys, for whose conduct Mr. Goldwin had the greatest admiration.
The newsboys followed in other carriages, which had been secured by Bob Hunter without cost, when it was known for what purpose they were wanted.
The remains of the dead boy were buried beside those of his father and sister in Greenwood Cemetery, where his mother had bought a plot at the death of her husband.
tom flannery’s funeral.
“We must buy a stone, Herbert, for Tom’s grave when we can get the money,” said Bob, as they came slowly away from the cemetery.
“Yes, we will do that some time, Bob,” answered Herbert, with swollen eyes. “But our first duty is to take care of his mother.”
“Yes, we promised him that we would look after her, and we must do it—he would have done it for either of us,” answered Bob, choking with emotion as his mind went back to the death scene.
“I wish I could help do something for Mrs. Flannery, poor woman,” said Ray, addressing her father.
“I shall be very glad to have you do anything in reason, my dear,” replied Mr. Goldwin with pleasure. “Nothing would make me more proud of my daughter than to see her helping others who need encouragement and assistance.”
“You shall be proud of me then, father,” replied Ray with enthusiasm. “I am so glad you took me with you today. It has given me a new idea of life. Now I feel as if I could be of some use in the world.”
“You certainly can if you wish to do good, for the competition in that line is not so great as it should be,” answered Mr. Goldwin thoughtfully.
ray reading to mrs. flannery.
“It looks so in Mrs. Flannery’s case surely,” remarked Herbert; “there were few to help her in her terrible trouble.”
“Did she have no friends but you and Mr. Hunter?” asked Ray.
“No, I think not,” answered young Randolph, “at least none that I know of.”
“What would she have done, poor woman, but for your kindness?”
“I do not like to think about it,” replied Herbert with a shudder.
“I think I know of a good woman who would go down and take care of Mrs. Flannery while she is sick,” said Mr. Goldwin. “She certainly needs good nursing for the present.”
“I wish such a woman could be had,” said Herbert, “for both Bob and myself are anxious to get to work.”