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Updated: June 18, 2025
So that here was a surprise for the proud and grief-smitten parent. "What is all that, Stephen?" he demands, with sudden consternation. "It seems to be another funeral, Sir. They're buryin' somebody next lot to yours." "Who, who, Stephen?" "I I ruther guess it's the old nigger, Sir," says Stephen. The mighty man is shaken. Wrath and sorrow and insulted affection convulse him for a moment.
Her questions elicited the information that they were returning from the "buryin'" of the Widow Miller.
"When I come from Colorado that time Jack was killed I found Debby here, widout even money enough to pay for a mass, to say nothin' of the buryin', bein' as they had put iverythin' into the little place here, d'ye see? Well I had a run o' luck the week before, which is neither here nor there, but I had money.
"Our buryin' patch is growin' comfortably rapidly as it is, without adding any marshals to the collection. I've known Pete Sweeney fer quite a spell, and my private advice is to let him alone. There ain't coffins enough this side the river to supply the demand, if you was to try to arrest him when he's feelin' as he's feelin' now."
Them that lies thar is yo' folks what was killed by the Coltranes. The monyments has the names on 'em. Missis Garvey says a fam'ly buryin' groun' is a sho' sign of quality. She says ef we git the feud, thar's somethin' else ought to go with it. The names on them monyments is 'Goree, but they can be changed to ourn by " "Go! Go!" screamed Goree, his face turning purple.
"The rain might wash down some of the rocks forming the roof." "Pooh! they have stayed up so long, I guess they would stay up a little longer," grumbled Phil. "No sech cave for me," broke in Abe Blower. "The rain makes 'em too dangerous. I was in a mine onct when it rained like this, an', fust thing we knew, about a hundred tons o' rocks slid down, almost buryin' us alive!"
Elder Covil knows send for him. That's just afore she died." "And did you send for him?" the Colonel asked with some alarm, and Jake replied: "I went for him an' he wasn't thar had moved off an' another gemman, the Rev. Mr. Charles Mason, what I foun' at the hotel, 'tended de buryin' with his pra'r book, 'case I wanted somethin' 'bout de Resurrection an' de Life.
"Maybe so, Ralph; maybe so. It's like it's because the world's bitter cruel that so many are buryin' theirsels afore they're dead." "Then it's because they expect too much of the world," said Ralph. "We should take the world on easier terms.
Do they fall kind o' lovingly but sadly on the little buryin' ground jest beyond the village? Ah, Father knows that spot, an' he loves it, too, for there are treasures there whose memory he wouldn't swap for all the world could give.
Theer a used to lie in the corner, but now he'm outside, an' I doubt the piskeys, what they talks 'bout, be mighty savage wi' me for not buryin' the beast, 'cause all fairies is 'dicted to goats, they do say, an' mighty fond o' the milk of 'em." Farmer Ford soon cleared the place of potatoes, sacks, and tools. Then, taking his broom, he made a clean sweep of dust and dirt.
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