"Whew! Ye don't tell! Never heard a word about it. When did he die?"
"Yesterday. I'm makin' his coffin now."
"Ye are, eh? Somewhat out of ye'r line, isn't it? I thought the undertaker in town allus attended to sich affairs."
"He does if there's any money in it. But this is a different case. Widder Denton's too poor to buy a casket, so that's why I've tackled the job. Guess there'll be more to make fer the same family belong long, if I'm not mistaken."
"What! Diphtheria?"
"No; starvation."
"Holy smoke! Ye don't say so! Didn't know it's as bad as that."
"Well, it is. That poor widder has been workin' so hard to keep her family that she's gone under. I wouldn't be surprised if it's her coffin I'll have to make next."
"Ye don't tell! Why, I thought she got money from the company when her husband was killed."
"H'm, Lawyer Rackshaw got most of it, accordin' to what she told me only yesterday."