very regular, what I done last Sunday, but I'll tell you if
you don't have me up before a court.... You remember last Sunday
was a swell day? Spring in the air, I guess, and everything, and
everybody was out walking like Matthews, here, with a Jane. I 'ain't
got a Jane, of course----"

"What!" roared Matthews.

"I 'ain't got a Jane, of course, so I decides to take a little look
around all by myself. Well, I goes down the Chomps-Eleezy feelin'
pretty good and sorta peppy and lookin' for trouble. I see all them
army heroes--the vets and the dentists and the S O S--each with a
skirt, and I passes Matthews, here, with _his_ skirt clingin' to him
like a cootie."

"Cut it out, you big stiff," interposed Matthews.

"Like a cootie," continued Steve, "and I got sorta de-pressed. So I
sez, me for the quiet, unfrequented streets over acrost the river.
Well, sir, I was just passin' the Loover--that big museum, or
whatever it is--when I see a hearse comin' in the opposite direction.
It was a pretty sick-lookin' hearse, too. It had a coupla animals
hitched to it that was probably called horses when they was young,
and that didn't have a steak minoot left on 'em. But they was all
covered with mangy black plumes and tassels and things--you know, the
way they rig 'em up when the corpse is takin' his last drive. And
there was an old bird sittin' up on the box-seat with a hat like
Napoleon One.

"Well, at first it looked to me like it was just the regular frawg
funeral, and I didn't pay no special attention, only I give it the
salute when I got opposite. Then I see that there weren't no flowers
nor tin wreaths on the coffin--except there was one little buncha
pinks, and they was a pretty sad-lookin' buncha pinks, too, sir.
Then I see that there weren't no procession walkin' along
behind--except there was one little old woman all in black and
lookin' sorta sick and scared. Yes, sir, there she was walkin' all
by herself and lookin' lonelier 'n hell.

"So I sez to myself: 'It's all wrong, Steve, it's all wrong. Here's
a poor dead frawg, the only son of his mother and her a
widow'--that's Bible stuff, sir--'goin' out to be planted with none
of the gang around. It's tough,' I sez. 'I'll say it is.' Well, I
told you I didn't have nothin' much to do, so I sez, 'Laffyette,
cheeri-o,' and steps up beside the old lady. That makes two mourners,
anyhow.

"Well, the old lady give me the once over and seen Mr. Daniels's
uniform and the roos