ere we were, and the coons acted a little
better, but I could see that the officers were not particularly solemn.
They seemed to expect something rich. They evidently looked upon me as
a star idiot, who would make some blunder, or say something to make them
laugh: I made up my mind that in my new position I would act just as
decorous, and speak as kindly as though the deceased was the president.
During all my life I had made it a practice never to speak ill of any
person on earth, and if I could not say a good word for a person I would
say nothing, a practice which I have kept up until this writing, with
much success, and I decided that the words spoken on that occasion
should not reflect against the poor man who had passed in his checks,
and laid down the burden of life. The grave was completed, and with a
couple of picket ropes the body was let down, and there was for a moment
a sort of solemnity. I arose, and as near as I can remember at this late
day, spoke about as follows:

[Illustration: A solemn funeral oration 077]

"Friends: We have met here today to conduct the last rites over a man,
who but yesterday was among us but who, in an unguarded moment drank too
much whisky, and paid the penalty. (There was a smile perceptible on
the faces on the officers.) The ignorant man who died, did not know any
better, but I see around me men who know better, but who drink more than
this man did, and if they are not careful they will go the same way.
(There was less smiling among the officers.) It is said of this man that
he was bad, that he would steal. I have investigated, and have found
that it is true, but that his peculations consisted of small things, of
little value, and I am convinced that the habit was not worse with him
than with any of us. In war times, everybody steals. We are all thieves
to a certain extent. The soldier will not go hungry if he can jay-hawk
anything to eat. The officer will not go thirsty if he can capture
whisky, nor will anybody walk if he can steal a horse. The higher a man
gets the more he will steal. Shall we harbor unkind thoughts against
this dead man for stealing a pair of boots, and honor a general who
steals a thousand bales of cotton? (No! no! shouted the cooks and
servants, while the officers looked as though they were sorry they
attended the funeral.) Friends let us look at the good qualities of our
friend. I say, without fear of successful contradiction, that a man,
however humble h