and chairs of like material, whose wooden seats, and high,
straight backs, were more suggestive of state than repose. Every one of
these chairs was occupied by a silent man, whose gaze was either fixed
on the floor, or lost in the voids of space. Each wore a black coat,
and most of them were in black throughout. Their hard, thick, brown
hands--hands evidently unused to idleness--grasped their knees, or,
folded in each other, rested upon them. Some bottles and glasses, with
a plate of biscuits, on a table in a corner, seemed to indicate that
the meeting was not entirely for business purposes; and yet there were
no signs of any sort of enjoyment. Nor was there a woman to be seen in
the company.

Suddenly, at the open door, appeared a man whose shirt-sleeves showed
very white against his other clothing which, like that of the rest, was
of decent black. He addressed the assembly thus:

"Gin ony o' ye want to see the corp, noo's yer time."

To this offer no one responded; and, with a slight air of discomfiture,
for he was a busy man, and liked bustle, the carpenter turned on his
heel, and re-ascended the narrow stairs to the upper room, where the
corpse lay, waiting for its final dismission and courted oblivion.

"I reckon they've a' seen him afore," he remarked, as he rejoined his
companion. "Puir fallow! He's unco (uncouthly) worn. There'll no be
muckle o' _him_ to rise again."

"George, man, dinna jeest i' the face o' a corp," returned the other.
"Ye kenna whan yer ain turn may come."

"It's no disrespeck to the deid, Thamas. That ye ken weel eneuch. I was
only pityin' the worn face o' him, leukin up there atween the buirds,
as gin he had gotten what he wanted sae lang, and was thankin' heaven
for that same. I jist dinna like to pit the lid ower him."

"Hoot! hoot! Lat the Lord luik efter his ain. The lid o' the coffin
disna hide frae his een."

The last speaker was a stout, broad-shouldered man, a stonemason by
trade, powerful, and somewhat asthmatic. He was regarded in the
neighbourhood as a very religious man, but was more respected than
liked, because his forte was rebuke. It was from deference to him that
the carpenter had assumed a mental position generating a poetic mood
and utterance quite unusual with him, for he was a jolly, careless kind
of fellow, well-meaning and good-hearted.

So together they lifted the last covering of the dead, laid it over
him, and fastened it down. And there was darkness abou