And now the neighbors drop in gently, one by one. Not one there but can remember some simple act of kindness, which makes the warm tears drop upon the placid face, upon which they are looking for the last time. Mrs. Bond had no kin; and yet every trembling lip there, called her "mother."
Not for thee, "mother," whom the busy world honored not, whom the Lord of Glory crowned; not for thee the careless city sepulture, the jostled hearse, the laughing, noisy, busy crowd. Reverently the prayer is said; now the little, rosy child is lifted up, to see how sweet a smile even icy Death may wear; and now toil-hardened hands, though kindly, bear her gently on to the quiet corner in the leafy church-yard, to which she has so long looked forward. The mold has fallen on her breast, the grave is spaded over, and still they linger, loth to leave even to the fragrant night, the kindly heart which had beat so long responsive to their homely joys and sorrows.
Oh, many such an earth-dimmed diamond shall Jehovah set sparkling in his crown, in the day when he maketh up his jewels.
CHAPTER LXVI.
It is astonishing the miles one may pass over unconsciously when one's mind is absorbed in thought. John strode rapidly down street, after his interview with Gertrude, running against foot-passengers with an audacity which his bland "beg pardon" scarcely atoned for. Some scowled, some muttered "tipsy;" an old apple-woman whose basket he upset, picked up the half-dollar he threw her with a very equivocal look of thanks, and a lady whose flounces he pinned to the sidewalk, darted vengeance at him, from a pair of eyes evidently made only for love-glances. Poor, distracted John! pedestrians should have seen that his elbow had a pugilistic crook in it, which might have notified any one with half an eye, that he was in a state of mind. But it is heart-rending how indifferent and stupid the out-door world is to one's individual frames. The hardhearted teamster persists in halting his cart on the only dry street-crossing, though bright eyes look down imploringly at pretty gaiter boots; gentlemen who have practiced before the looking-glass the most killing way of carrying a cane, and finally settled down upon the arm-pit style, mercilessly extinguish unwary eyes with the protruding weapon. It matters not to the smoker that he poisons the fresh air upon which one has depended to cure a villainous headache. It matters not that the stain of the cigar-stump he tosses upon your dress, is as indelible as the stamp of loaferism upon the best-dressed man who smokes in the street. It matters not to the grocer's boy, as he walks with his head hind side before, that he draws a slimy salt-fish across a silk mantle, or fetches up against a brocade with a quart of molasses. It matters not that you are unable to decide whether the world is not big enough, or whether there are too many people in it; the census keeps going on all the same.
As our hero was sufficiently unfashionable never to have defiled his very handsome mouth with a cigar, he had no escape-valve for his irritation but accelerated motion; and that brought him, after a time, to the door of a restaurant which stood invitingly open. Entering, partly from weariness, partly from extreme thirst, consequent upon being in an excited state, he seated himself in a curtained alcove, and tossing his hat on the table, gave his order to the waiter, and listlessly took up a newspaper. Ere his eyes were riveted upon any particular paragraph, voices in the next alcove attracted his attention.
"Do you stay long in the city?"
"I think not; only a day or two."