The next mornin’ wuz fair and pleasant, and we got a good, early start. We went with the democrat, and Jack wuz goin’ to set between us after we left Delight; we put in her little willer chair in front, and Jack sot in that till we left her.
I had put on my second best black alpaca dress and my black bunnet that I had mourned for Mother Allen in; it wuz jest as good as it ever wuz. Mournin’ for a mother-in-law hain’t so hard on clothes as mournin’ for your own parents. It wuz real fashionable in shape, for you know fashions come round agin in jest about so long a time, and I had kep’ this in a bandbox for years and years, till, lo and behold! time, that had rolled round and round, had rolled this right into fashion agin. It wuz a kind of poke, but not too pokey. I also wore my black shawl I had mourned in, jest as good as new, the nap not took off a mite. I didn’t wear my crape veil, thinkin’ I didn’t want to look as if I wuz mournin’ too much, but I wanted to be jest right for a connection of the Bodleys by marriage.
Josiah acted kinder sot about dressin’ for the funeral. He would wear his pepper and salt suit. I told him it didn’t look half so well as black at a funeral.
“Well,” sez he, “I hain’t a-goin’ to mourn much.”
Sez I, “You could jest as well mourn what you calculate to in a black suit as a gray one.”
But, no, he would do jest as he wanted to, and contended that he should wear it, for he didn’t lay out to mourn a great deal. He said they wuzn’t any real relation to us, and they wuz on my side what they wuz, and, sez he, “I lay out to wear a pale-blue necktie.”
But I broke that up. He couldn’t find it at the last minute, and had to wear a black one. Jack had on his little blue suit, but I tied a black ribbon round his neck under his collar; he looked good, anyway. We left Delight to home and went on, with Jack settin’ between us and askin’ questions most all the time.
We got to the house about half-past ten—the funeral wuz at eleven. We could told the house anyway, there wuz so many teams standin’ round the door and in front of the barn, and horses hitched all along the fence, and they had took down a length of fence by the orchard and lots of teams wuz hitched in there. There wuz top buggies, one or two autos, democrats, double wagons with chairs in ’em for seats, and one or two buckboards and some bicycles leanin’ aginst the piazza steps. There wuz lots of folks present; Grandma Bodley wuz respected.
We went through the front door into the big, lonesome-lookin’ hall, the light comin’ through fanlights by the side and over the door with narrer green paper curtains in front of ’em. The parlor and settin’ room wuz to each side of the hall, and to the end of it wuz a big, old-fashioned kitchen, part of it carpeted, which they used for a winter dining room; the summer kitchen wuz back on’t. The chairs wuz all put in the parlor—where the body wuz—for the family to set on, and in the settin’ room and kitchen long boards wuz put, the ends layin’ on kags and sap buckets. And the neighbors had filled these seats full, for in such lonesome neighborhoods a funeral is about the only break in the monotony of life, and they are attended with avidity.
Jest as we went in the hall Hamen and his wife come down the front stairs. She wuz dressed in deep black from head to foot, and had a long crape veil she had borrowed for the occasion over her face, and a black-bordered handkerchief. She looked real smart, havin’ forgot herself and her various diseases in the sad excitement of the occasion. Alzina follered her, dressed in a dark alpacky, her usual dress which she wore whilst she wuz tuggin’ along takin’ care of the deceased day and night; but her eyes wuz red and swelled up with weepin’, and she wuz real pale. I wuz sorry for Alzina. Anna and Cicero follered, and then the other married sister and her children, and then Grandma Bodley’s brother’s family, and other distant relations. I laid out to fall into the procession long to the last of it, but at the last minute I missed Josiah, and found him in the settin’ room settin’ on a board near the door, and I whispered to him and told him to come on into the parlor.
And he whispered back, “I told you I wuzn’t goin’ to mourn much, and I hain’t.” I couldn’t move him no more than I could the board he wuz settin’ on. But for the sake of decency and on Jack’s account I went into the parlor with him, but I sot down pretty nigh the door so as to compromise between my partner and duty.
Well, the sermon wuz pretty long, but scriptural, no doubt; it was a bashful young preacher, and his first funeral sermon, almost his first sermon at all; and then I guess the singin’ onnerved him—it wuz dretful. The hymn wuz Grandma Bodley’s favorite, and chose by Alzina:
“There is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found.
They calmly lie and sweetly sleep,
Low in the ground, low in the ground.”
But all the while they wuz singin’ I kep’ on thinkin’ that Grandma Bodley wuz too good a woman and too good a Christian to have such singin’ over her. It sot all the mourners off to cryin’, and no wonder. They had a squeaky old melodeon that Tamer learned to play on when she wuz a child, and a neighborin’ girl that played by ear played on it; and the singers bein’ picked up that day as they come in from different townships, they flatted and sharped them poor hims in a way that wuz perfectly dretful; but I thought to myself, poor Grandma has got where she can’t hear it, and this word come right into my mind, “Blessed are the dead.”
Well, there bein’ no regular undertaker, the bashful young minister, after the last him wuz sung, give a notice that wuz dretful mixed up, and sounded more as if he had invited the corpse to walk round and view the congregation than visey versey. A way wuz cleared round the coffin, and the folks from the kitchin all filed in first and walked round the coffin and then went out through the parlor bedroom door into the kitchen and outdoors, and then the folks in the settin’ room did the same, and then the mourners.
Jack, the first minute he got a chance, squeezed in in front of all the rest and wouldn’t move on. Grandma Bodley looked calm and peaceful; she had lived a Christian and died one, and the peace of God wuz wrote down on her forward. Her lips and eyes that had smiled so many times on less happy souls wuz closed peaceful. Her hands, that had gin blessin’s and help to so many emptier hands, wuz folded, and she looked glad to be at rest. But Jack kep’ eyin’ her so with such a strange, searchin’ look it made me feel queer. Grandma looked so peaceful and Jack so watchful of her I felt curious and couldn’t deny it. After all the rest had gone out he kep’ up that same stiddy watchin’, and he not sayin’ anything, nor she nuther.
Well, way along that evenin’ when we had got back from the funeral, for I told Tamer the house wuz so full I would take Jack home with me agin, and after we had had supper, and it wuz gittin’ along most bedtime, Jack come up and laid his head aginst my shoulder and sez:
“Aunt Samantha, I didn’t miss anything.”
Sez I, “What do you mean, Jack?”
“I wuz on the lookout to-day, and I couldn’t see that anything wuz gone. You know you said part of grandma had gone to Heaven, and I kep’ a good watch all day, and I couldn’t see but what she wuz all there; her head wuz there, and her hands, and I couldn’t see a thing wuz missin’, unless it wuz her tongue. I didn’t see that, but I spozed it wuz in her mouth, she most always kep’ it there, and I can’t make out what you meant, for you always are shure nuff; you don’t fool anybody as most everybody duz.”
And then I had to go all over the ground agin and tried to be patient, and bein’ on a solemn and grand subject, onbeknown to myself I soared a little and spoke of the happy angels who had come down from their blest abode to take dear Grandma home. And Jack interrupted me with big shinin’ eyes:
“Do you spoze if I had been there I could have seen ’em?”
“No, Jack, I am afraid not. I am afraid we hain’t good enough.”
“Don’t you believe if I wuz dretful, awful good I could see the tip end of one of ’em?” And here he branched off. “I heard mother say she wuz goin’ to carry some flowers to put on the grave. She wuz cryin’ and said it wuz because Grandma loved ’em. And I want to take over a little mite of Bologna sassige and put on the grave; Grandma loved it; she said she loved it better than most anything, and I do, too. Can’t I take a little mite over, Aunt Samantha?”
And I told him, “No, that dear Grandma had gone where she had divine food, and would never be hungry agin; she had everything that wuz most beautiful and blessed.”
“Well, what makes mother carry the flowers?”
And I sez, “It will make your mother feel better, Jack, that’s all.”
“Well, it would make me feel better to carry the b’lona. What’s the difference?” And I sithed and wuz at my wits’ end to explain the difference to him, and don’t spoze I did after all my outlay of breath, and, as Jack said, what wuz the difference? And I repeated it to myself as I wuz ondressin’ goin’ to bed—“What wuz the difference?”
And Josiah thought I wuz talkin’ to him, and sez, “What? There hain’t any.”
And I replied to myself, for the subject hanted me, “But it would be a town’s talk.”
And Josiah said, “What of it? What if it wuz? The town don’t know everything.” And he wuz half asleep and didn’t know what he wuz talkin’ and disputin’ about, nor I nuther, and we settin’ ourselves up and callin’ ourselves smart. Well, though it is like hitchin’ the democrat to the old mare’s foretop for a few minutes, I spoze I might as well tell what Jack told me afterwards how it come out. He couldn’t seem to give up the idee of carryin’ that sassige, and next time he see his ma carryin’ some flowers to put on the grave, posies, too, that his Grandma couldn’t bear the smell of when she wuz alive, said they made her sick (she never cared much for flowers of any kind, wuz dretful practical and had cabbages and onions growin’ right up to the front door), but Tamer wuz bound to carry some, thinkin’ it looked well, I spoze, and agin Jack tackled her about the sassige. Sez he, “Grandma loved it better than she did flowers enough sight,” and his mother told him to stop such talking instantly.
And then sez Jack, “I got mad and told her I would take some, and then mother said she would whip me if I mentioned the subject agin; and then I sez, ‘B’lona,’ and then she did whip me hard. Grandma wouldn’t have done it,” sez Jack, “and I loved her, and I’ve heard her say lots of times that children ort to have their rights, and I can’t see why I can’t carry over sunthin’ to lay on Grandma’s grave jest as well as all the rest. I would love to carry some yarn, she wuz always knittin’. She would cry if she got out of yarn, and Ma knows it, and I wanted to carry over a little skein of blue and white yarn, jest the color she loved best, but Ma said she would whip me if I took a inch of yarn there, and there it is. I can’t do nothin’ I want to.”
And Jack whimpered a little, and I sez to him soothin’ly, “Never mind, Jack, Grandma knows you love her, and she loves you jest as well as she ever did, and better.” And I spoze I talked to him over an hour on the subject, and spozed he had forgot all about ornamentin’ the grave, he had begun to look considerable bright, when all of a sudden he broke out real confidential: “Don’t you think it would be a good plan if I took over a little mite of cheese? Grandma wuz dretful fond of sage cheese.”
Oh, dear me! I had to go all over the hull ground agin, it took sights of patience and breath.
But to reckon backwards. That night after Grandma Bodley’s funeral there come up a heavy thunder shower, and I hearn Jack call out; he slept out of our room in Delight’s little crib that night, and I got up and went to him to try to soothe him, and I sez:
“Jack, are you afraid?”
His head wuz way down under the bedclothes, I could only see the ends of one or two curly locks, and I sez agin, still more soothin’ly:
“Can’t you trust the hand, Jack, that leads you through fair days? That same hand is leadin’ you through storms, Jack; can’t you trust Him?”
And Jack answered from way down under the bedclothes, “I am trusting Him jest as hard as I can, Aunt Samantha, and I am most skairt to death.”
Thinks I to myself how much like old believers that is: we trust the Lord jest as hard as we can, and yet oft-times we are most skairt to death
“When any waves of trouble rise
Acrost our peaceful breasts.”
Well, Hamen and Tamer stopped for Jack a few days after that; they had stayed a day or two with Alzina to help her settle things. They offered her a home with them, so Tamer said, and she thought it wuz very foolish and onreasonable in her to stay there in that big house all alone when she stood ready to give her a home and do everything for her. And I told her I presumed Alzina would ruther be independent.
“Independent, Samantha? I don’t know what you mean. I guess my sister would feel independent in my house; it would be her home jest as much as it is mine. Of course, I should’nt have to keep a girl if she lived with me, for I know she would want to take hold and help me; she would feel better for it; but she would have a good home and some one to take care of her.” But, thinkses I, take it with all that housework, and sinevetus and basler mengetus, and dime novels shadin’ the background, Alzina wuz wise to stay under her own hop vine and apple tree, but I didn’t say any more, for I felt it wuzn’t my place.
I hated to have Jack go, and he cried, but Tamer said he might come down agin before long, and she asked me if I wouldn’t go with her before long and visit with her cousin Celestine, Uncle Submit Smith’s girl, a widder with one child, who wuz home on a visit. And I told her I would if I possibly could.