ANDERSON. Who's that they're burying to-day? I see such a lot of people going out that way—and then, of course, they've come to see where the fire was, too.
MRS. WESTERLUND. I don't think they're burying anybody, but I've heard they're going to put up a monument over the bishop—worst of it is that the stone-cutter's daughter was going to get married to the gardener's son—him, you know, who's in a store down-town—and now the gardener has lost all he had—isn't that his furniture standing over there?
ANDERSON. I guess that's some of the dyer's, too, seeing as it came out helter-skelter in a jiffy—and where's the dyer now?
MRS. WESTERLUND. He's down at the police station testifying.
ANDERSON. Hm-hm!—Yes, yes!—And there's my cousin now—him what drives the hearse—he's always thirsty on his way back.
HEARSE-DRIVER. [Enters] How do, Malvina! So you've gone and started a little job of arson out here during the night, have you? Looks pretty, doesn't it. Would have been better to get a new shanty instead, I guess.
MRS. WESTERLUND. Oh, mercy me! But whom have you been taking out now?
HEARSE-DRIVER. Can't remember what his name was—only one carriage along, and no flowers on the coffin at all.
MRS. WESTERLUND. Sure and it wasn't any happy funeral, then! If you want anything to drink you'll have to go 'round to the kitchen, for I haven't got things going on this side yet, and, for that matter, Gustafson is coming here with a lot of wreaths—they've got something on out at the cemetery to-day.
HEARSE-DRIVER. Yes, they're going to put up a moniment to the bishop—'cause he wrote books, I guess, and collected all kinds of vermin—was a reg'lar vermin-hunter, they tell me.