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Updated: June 28, 2025
A baby was born arter a time, an' while he was young the sad-faced mother sickened an' died. Cap'n Wegg give her a decent fun'ral an' went right on smokin' his pipe an' sulkin', same as ever. Then he he died," rather lamely, "an' Joe thet's the boy bein' then about sixteen, dug out 'n' run away. We hain't seen him sense." "Nice boy?" asked Uncle John.
Joseph, Mitchigan; an' Clonmel Tipp'rary pa-apers please copy. "I didn't see e'er a nee about th' fam'ly iv th' little man back iv th' dumps, though maybe he had wan to set aroun' th' fire in th' dark an' start at th' tap iv a heel on th' dure-step. Mebbe he had a fam'ly, poor things. A fun'ral is great la-arks f'r th' neighbors, an' 'tis not so bad f'r th' corpse.
"Might do wuss," responded the carpenter, sorrowfully. "But, y' see, I stan' in wi' Doc. Osler, an' he physics me reg'lar." Everybody laughed with the butcher this time. "Say, you gorl-durned 'fun'ral boards, you're gittin' kind o' fresh, but I'd bet a greenback to a last year's corn-shuck you don't quit ther' an' come grazin' around Carney's pastures, long as my missis does the cookin'."
"So," he said, facing her quickly, "for the sake of a lot of riff-raff and scum that's drifted here around us jest for the sake of cuttin' a swell before them you'll go out among the hounds ez allowed your mother was a Spanish nigger or a kanaka, ez called your father a pirate and landgrabber, ez much as allowed he was shot by some one or killed himself a purpose, ez said you was a heathen and a looney because you didn't go to school or church along with their trash, ez kept away from Maw's sickness ez if it was smallpox, and Dad's fun'ral ez if he was a hoss-thief, and left you and me to watch his coffin on the marshes all night till the tide kem back.
Two days of this intoxicating popularity had just passed; the funeral was over, and she ran in to the White Farm on her way home, to carry a message, and to see with her own eyes how Samantha Ann Ripley was comporting herself. "You didn't git out to the fun'ral, did ye, Samanthy?" she asked, as she seated herself cosily by the kitchen window. "No, I didn't.
When a slave died, dere was a to-do over dat, hollerin' an' singin'. More fuss dan a little 'Well, sich a one has passed out an we gwine to de grave to 'tend de fun'ral; we will talk about Sister Sallie. De niggers would be jumpin' as high as a cow er mule. 'Come on Chariot an' Take Her Home, Take Her Home, Here Come Chariot, les' ride, Come on les' ride, Come on les' ride.
I thote ev'ry feller on th' river knew thet yere why, ol' Hawkins, his wife's brother's buried in Alton to-day, 'n' th' neighbors done gwine t' th' fun'ral. Whar your shanty-boat been beached, thet ye ain' heared thet yere?" As the sun neared the horizon, we tried other places below, with no better success; and two miles above Alton, Ind.
Aunt Sally and Tilly pulled Uncle Dave down while they conversed with him earnestly. Then he arose and said: "Hillard, I beg yo' pardon. You've spoken the truth Sally and Tilly both say so. I tell yo', bretherin," he said turning to the congregation "it'd be a good thing if we c'ud all have our fun'ral sermon now and then correctly told.
"Now Hillard," said Uncle Dave, rising "do you think it necessary to bring in all that?" "A man's fun'ral," said the Bishop, "ain't intended to do him any good it's fur the coming generation.
Her name was Ryan, a little, scared, foolish woman; an' she died whin a boy was bor-rn. Ahearn give her a solemn rayqueem high mass an' a monument at Calv'ry that ye can see fr'm th' fun'ral thrain. An' he come fr'm th' fun'ral with th' first smile on his face that anny man iver see there, an' th' baby in his ar-rms. "I'll not say Ahearn was a changed man.
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