The strains of “Lead, Kindly Light” announced the approach to the church, and a hush fell upon the struggling throng. The cavalry escort slowly swung into Tuscarawas street at the head of the funeral line, with the bugles silent and all orders given by signs. The cavalrymen formed three sides of a hollow square opposite the church doors, brought their swords to the position of “present arms” and sat like statues.
The great organ inside the church was waked by the first faint ripple of music from the street, which quivered through the black-draped doors, and commenced to breathe softly through the auditorium the solemn notes of Beethoven’s funeral march.
Four girls rose and joined their voices to the beautiful melody of the beautiful song, “Beautiful Isle of Somewhere.” It was like an answer to complaining hearts as it ran:
Somewhere the sun is shining;
Somewhere the song birds dwell;
Hush, then, thy sad repining;
God lives and all is well.
Somewhere, somewhere,
Beautiful Isle of Somewhere;
Land of the true, where we live anew;