aid he judged that wher'
he was going to, a body would find it considerable better to attract
attention by a picturesque moral character than a natty burial case
with a swell doorplate on it. Splendid man, he was. I'd druther do for
a corpse like that 'n any I've tackled in seven year. There's some
satisfaction in buryin' a man like that. You feel that what you're doing
is appreciated. Lord bless you, so's he got planted before he sp'iled,
he was perfectly satisfied; said his relations meant well, perfectly
well, but all them preparations was bound to delay the thing more or
less, and he didn't wish to be kept layin' round. You never see such
a clear head as what he had--and so carm and so cool. Just a hunk of
brains that is what he was. Perfectly awful. It was a ripping distance
from one end of that man's head to t'other. Often and over again he's
had brain fever a-raging in one place, and the rest of the pile
didn't know anything about it--didn't affect it any more than an Injun
insurrection in Arizona affects the Atlantic States. Well, the
relations they wanted a big funeral, but corpse said he was down on
flummery--didn't want any procession--fill the hearse full of mourners,
and get out a stern line and tow him behind. He was the most down
on style of any remains I ever struck. A beautiful, simple-minded
creature--it was what he was, you can depend on that. He was just set
on having things the way he wanted them, and he took a solid comfort in
laying his little plans. He had me measure him and take a whole raft
of directions; then he had a minister stand up behind a long box with
a tablecloth over it and read his funeral sermon, saying 'Angcore,
angcore!' at the good places, and making him scratch out every bit of
brag about him, and all the hifalutin; and then he made them trot out
the choir so's he could help them pick out the tunes for the occasion,
and he got them to sing 'Pop Goes the Weasel,' because he'd always liked
that tune when he was downhearted, and solemn music made him sad; and
when they sung that with tears in their eyes (because they all loved
him), and his relations grieving around, he just laid there as happy as
a bug, and trying to beat time and showing all over how much he enjoyed
it; and presently he got worked up and excited; and tried to join in,
for mind you he was pretty proud of his abilities in the singing line;
but the first time he opened his mouth and was just going to spread
himself,