"Yes,madam,"says I,"and it is a very good one,too;not costly,to be sure,but in this life we must cut our garment to our clothes,as the saying is."And as she starts out,I heave in,kind of casually,"This one with the white satin lining is a beauty,but I am afraid--well,sixty-five dollars is a rather--rather--but no matter,I felt obliged to say to Mrs.O'Shaughnessy--""D'ye mane to soy that Bridget O'Shaughnessy bought the mate to that joo-ul box to ship that dhrunken divil to Purgatory in?""Yes,madam."
"Then Pat shall go to heaven in the twin to it,if it takes the last rap the O'Flaherties can raise;and moind you,stick on some extras,too,and I'll give ye another dollar."'And as I lay-in with the livery stables,of course I don't forget to mention that Mrs.O'Shaughnessy hired fifty-four dollars'worth of hacks and flung as much style into Dennis's funeral as if he had been a duke or an assassin.
And of course she sails in and goes the O'Shaughnessy about four hacks and an omnibus better.That used to be,but that's all played now;that is,in this particular town.The Irish got to piling up hacks so,on their funerals,that a funeral left them ragged and hungry for two years afterward;so the priest pitched in and broke it all up.
He don't allow them to have but two hacks now,and sometimes only one.'
'Well,'said I,'if you are so light-hearted and jolly in ordinary times,what must you be in an epidemic?'
He shook his head.
'No,you're off,there.We don't like to see an epidemic.
An epidemic don't pay.Well,of course I don't mean that,exactly;but it don't pay in proportion to the regular thing.
Don't it occur to you,why?'
No.
'Think.'
'I can't imagine.What is it?'
'It's just two things.'
'Well,what are they?'
'One's Embamming.'
'And what's the other?'
'Ice.'
'How is that?'
'Well,in ordinary times,a person dies,and we lay him up in ice;one day two days,maybe three,to wait for friends to come.
Takes a lot of it--melts fast.We charge jewelry rates for that ice,and war-prices for attendance.Well,don't you know,when there's an epidemic,they rush 'em to the cemetery the minute the breath's out.
No market for ice in an epidemic.Same with Embamming.
You take a family that's able to embam,and you've got a soft thing.
You can mention sixteen different ways to do it--though there AIN'T only one or two ways,when you come down to the bottom facts of it--and they'll take the highest-priced way,every time.
It's human nature--human nature in grief.It don't reason,you see.
Time being,it don't care a dam.All it wants is physical immortality for deceased,and they're willing to pay for it.All you've got to do is to just be ca'm and stack it up--they'll stand the racket.
Why,man,you can take a defunct that you couldn't GIVE away;and get your embamming traps around you and go to work;and in a couple of hours he is worth a cool six hundred--that's what HE'S worth.There ain't anything equal to it but trading rats for di'monds in time of famine.
Well,don't you see,when there's an epidemic,people don't wait to embam.
No,indeed they don't;and it hurts the business like hell-th,as we say--hurts it like hell-th,HEALTH,see?--Our little joke in the trade.
Well,I must be going.Give me a call whenever you need any--I mean,when you're going by,sometime.'
In his joyful high spirits,he did the exaggerating himself,if any has been done.I have not enlarged on him.
With the above brief references to inhumation,let us leave the subject.
As for me,I hope to be cremated.I made that remark to my pastor once,who said,with what he seemed to think was an impressive manner--'I wouldn't worry about that,if I had your chances.'
Much he knew about it--the family all so opposed to it.
