y.

"Jake," said Dauvit, "does it no strike ye that to be buried in yer
native place is a disgrace?"

"Hoo that, na?" said Jake.

"Because the man that bides in the place he was born in is of nae
importance. A' the best men leave their native village, aye, and their
native country. Aye, lads, the best men and the worst women leave
their native country."

"I sincerely trust that you are not insinuating that they leave
together, Dauvit," I put in hastily.

"No, they dinna do that, dominie; but whether they meet in London I
dinna ken," and he smiled wickedly.

Jake spat in the grate.

"I dinna see what the attraction o' London is," he said with a touch of
contempt.

"It is rather difficult to describe," I said. "For one thing you feel
that you are in the centre of things. You are in the midst of all the
best plays and concerts and processions . . . and you never think of
going to see them. Then all the important people are there, the King
and Lloyd George and Bernard Shaw . . . but you never see them
anywhere. Then there are the places of historic interest, the Tower,
Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's . . . and you don't know where they are
until your cousins come up for a week's trip, and then you ask a
policeman where the Tower is. And the strange thing is that you get to
love London."

"There will be a fell puckle funerals I daresay," said the undertaker.

"To tell the truth," I answered, "I have never seen a funeral in
London. In the suburbs, yes, but never in the centre of the West End.
I've often seen them at the crematorium in Golders Green."

The undertaker frowned.

"That crematin' business shud be abolished by act o' Parliament," he
said gruffly. "It's just a waste o' guid wood and coal. They tell me
it taks twa ton o' coal ilka time."

I was surprised to find that the broad-minded Dauvit agreed with the
undertaker in condemning cremation. I suspect that early training has
something to do with it, and there may be an unconscious connecting of
cremation with hell-fire. Dauvit's argument that cremation would
destroy the evidence in poisoning cases was a pure rationalisation.

I wondered why the topic of funerals kept coming up, and I laughingly
put the matter to Dauvit.

"Maybe it's because we're sad because ye're gaein' awa," he said
half-seriously. "We'll miss yer crack at nichts."

At last I got up to go.

"Aweel, Dauvit, I'll be going," I said.

"Aweel, so long," said Dauvit wi