We were politely handed chairs and a bill of fare. The chairs were low,—the bill must have been made out on the top of Sawyer’s Observatory, there was no other way to get it so high. The list was printed in three languages, and the customer was expected to pay in half a dozen languages, though only allowed to eat in an a b c. We drank a cup of tea, ate a biscuit, looked at the Beefsteak à la mode de Paris, and the Potatoes fricasse haute nouveate, sighed, and left our watches in pledge, while we sallied out to try to raise the amount of our bill on our life insurance.
After completing this negotiation at the International Insurance Bureau, we started for the Horticultural Building, but the
Model Cemetery
which we were obliged to pass, suited the state of our feelings so well that we paused to examine it.—We soliloquized:—
“In the midst of death we are in life,” said we originally,—“oh death, sweet death, in the midst of all this life are we reminded of thee;—in the excitement and the turmoil thy quietness is here. Lo, the labor of man’s hand and the production of man’s mind we find about us,—we look, we wonder, we admire, but what, what are these hands and minds to thee? Nothing; nothing save the dust which in thy mill——” We were interrupted by a THE UNDERTAKER’S
DRUMMER—A
DEAD BEAT.gentleman who approached us and invited us to invest in one of his patent coffins. He had any number of testimonials from parties who had used them, stating that under no consideration would they use any other. He said we might try one, and if we didn’t like it we needn’t feel compelled to keep it. He seemed very anxious to discover whether we had any sickly relatives. He took us through the undertaker’s department; showed us shrouds, sombre trappings, gold and silver trimmings, rosewood caskets, all the paraphernalia for a pleasant and comfortable send off. He escorted us through the marble yard, mentioned what kind of a tombstone he thought would best suit our condition, quoted verses of poetry which he thought would make suitable inscriptions, and was really so attentive and persistent that the truth dawned upon us at last;—he was placed there to talk visitors to death and brisken up business for the exhibitors.
He earned his salary,
whatever it was. He explained the system of cremation, and told us if we had any old aunts or grandmothers about the house to bring them down and he would take pleasure in demonstrating its beauties practically. He induced us to purchase three or four little coffins made from the wood in Independence Hall, to be worn as watch charms;—“very sensible mementos of the occasion,” said he.
It was by an almost superhuman effort that we broke from him at last,—we barely saved our lives,—that is all—we walked off a few yards and then—oh, intelligent reader, let us draw the veil!—we ourselves were carried to the Hospital.
CHAPTER VIII.
“THE GLOW.” ... Who helped and who enjoyed it.
