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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Elizabeth," said he to his daughter, who was sitting by the parlor fire, "go into the next room and remain with your aunt, and if anything occurs summon me at once; and, John, saddle my horse quickly, and ride over to Mrs. Caply and tell her to come over here." Mrs. Caply was the layer-out of the dead for the neighborhood.
To go in search of the layer-out of bodies, who exists only here and there in the country-side, would be almost always waste of time; the favourable month, April, would elapse before my cage was suitably populated. To run after him is to trust too much to accident; so we will make him come to us by scattering in the orchard an abundant collection of dead Moles.
Dr Johnson said, he was a good layer-out of land, but would not allow him to approach excellence as a poet. He said, he believed he had tried to read all his Love Pastorals, but did not get through them. I repeated the stanza, "She gazed as I slowly withdrew; My path I could hardly discern; So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return."
Johnson said he was a good layer-out of land , but would not allow him to approach excellence as a poet. He said, he believed he had tried to read all his Love Pastorals, but did not get through them. I repeated the stanza, 'She gazed as I slowly withdrew; My path I could hardly discern; So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return .
"My dear," said Mrs. Briggs, with solemn pride, "anyone as 'as seen death as often as I 'ave don't need to look twice." Mrs. Briggs occupied the exalted position of layer-out in chief in Brethaven village, and right proud was she of her calling. It had been handed down from mother to daughter in her family for the past four generations.
Not in her was the force of evolution manifest. There are thousands such. Lily, awake, and reclothed with that unreal mien of a grown and comprehending woman, stepped quietly into the room, searching for the poor old thing, Constance. The layer-out had come. By the first post was delivered a letter addressed to Sophia by Mr. Till Boldero. From its contents the death of Gerald Scales was clear.
This engulfment is the sepulchre which assumes a tide, and which mounts from the depths of the earth towards a living man. Each minute is an inexorable layer-out of the dead.
"She died this afternoon. The layer-out left about half an hour ago." Death parted them. He rose from her knee, and Marguerite did not try to prevent him. He was profoundly shocked. With desolating vividness he recalled the Sunday afternoon when he had carried upstairs the plump, living woman now dead. He had always liked Mrs. Lob it was as Mrs. Lob that he thought of her.
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