But they was all
covered with mangy black plumes and tassels and things--you know, the
way they rig 'em up when the corpse is takin' his last drive. And
there was an old bird sittin' up on the box-seat with a hat like
Napoleon One.
"Well, at first it looked to me like it was just the regular frawg
funeral, and I didn't pay no special attention, only I give it the
salute when I got opposite. Then I see that there weren't no flowers
nor tin wreaths on the coffin--except there was one little buncha
pinks, and they was a pretty sad-lookin' buncha pinks, too, sir.
Then I see that there weren't no procession walkin' along
behind--except there was one little old woman all in black and
lookin' sorta sick and scared. Yes, sir, there she was walkin' all
by herself and lookin' lonelier 'n hell.
"So I sez to myself: 'It's all wrong, Steve, it's all wrong. Here's
a poor dead frawg, the only son of his mother and her a
widow'--that's Bible stuff, sir--'goin' out to be planted with none
of the gang around. It's tough,' I sez. 'I'll say it is.' Well, I
told you I didn't have nothin' much to do, so I sez, 'Laffyette,
cheeri-o,' and steps up beside the old lady. That makes two mourners,
anyhow.
"Well, the old lady give me the once over and seen Mr.
Pages:
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460