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 pa.s.sionately 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 a.s.surance 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 st.u.r.dy 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 pa.s.sed 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 hea.r.s.e, 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 a.s.sistance."

"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 compet.i.tion in that line is not so great as it should be," answered Mr. Goldwin thoughtfully.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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."

CHAPTER x.x.x.

IN A NEW HOME.

Three weeks after the funeral Mrs. Flannery had sufficiently recovered her strength so that she could safely be moved from the rooms she had occupied so long. Ray Goldwin had done much towards bringing about this satisfactory result by her frequent visits and cheerful manner--always saying and doing the right thing with admirable tact. She became much interested in the childless woman whose heart still bled unceasingly for her "poor Tom, poor Tom," as she murmured often to herself.

At the funeral Ray had contrasted her own life with that of Herbert and Bob. As she pondered over what these two humble boys, with so slender means, had done for the dying lad and his grief-stricken mother, she felt how much she suffered by the comparison.

The solemnity of the occasion and the glowing words of praise for the two friends of the dead, spoken with such peculiar force by the minister, led her, as was natural, to overestimate their worth and to undervalue her own. With the same spirit, therefore, with which she admired Herbert and Bob for their acts, she condemned her own inactivity, and there in that little room beside the remains of the humble newsboy she resolved that she would be something more than a society girl as her life had hitherto been tending. She had learned a valuable lesson and given place to a purpose as n.o.ble as it was humane.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MRS. FLANNERY AND THE TWO BOYS IN THEIR NEW HOME.]

That she was carrying out this purpose her kind acts and words of comfort to Mrs. Flannery amply attested. She, however, was not alone the source of comfort while on these missions of n.o.ble charity, for the sick woman gave her, unconsciously, to be sure, as she talked of Herbert Randolph, a taste of happiness of a finer and sweeter character than she herself, poor woman, could ever hope again to feel. It was born of hero worship--a worship ripening into simple, childlike sentiment. I say hero worship, for such her thoughts of young Randolph and Bob Hunter were when she first realized how kind and generous they had been to him who now lay dead, and to his helpless and heart broken mother.

Such thoughts, however, to a young girl just verging upon the age of woman, and when the hero is a n.o.ble, manly boy like Randolph, are but the buds of the more beautiful and fragrant flower which time is sure to bring forth.

And this is the way that Ray came to find such pleasure in the simple talk of Mrs. Flannery--talk that but for this magnetic interest must have been unbearably dull to her young ears.

Herbert and Bob, feeling that it would be better for the bereaved mother to get away from her present rooms where she was constantly reminded of the dead, leased a neat little flat in Harlem, to which she was moved, together with her furniture. Here they designed making a home for themselves, inaugurating Mrs. Flannery as housekeeper. It seemed to them that they could in no other way carry out so fully the wishes of their dead friend. The housework would occupy her mind and keep her busy, and by their living thus together she would have with her the two friends in whose care the deceased had placed her. Moreover each desired a better home than their cheerless attic room had been to them, and they felt that they could now afford to spend more upon themselves.

Thus the flat was taken and with Mrs. Flannery's furniture, a few new things from the store and little fancy articles made and contributed by Ray and her mother, the boys found themselves very happily situated in their new home. Mrs. Flannery, too, while at her new duties, recovered more quickly than would seem possible from the terrible shock she had sustained. In young Randolph and Bob Hunter she found all she could have desired in sons of her own--found, as her poor dying boy had said, that they would look out for her, and could do more for her than he. And she proved a good mother to them, studying their every want with grat.i.tude and affection.

To Bob especially the comforts of his present life gave great happiness, and as the weeks rolled by he became more and more attached to his new home, and spent all the spare time possible in study, being taught by Herbert.