And I made up my mind then and there that I would jest go acrost lots and attend to that funeral myself.
So I made my way through a broken place in the fence and sot out for the funeral.
I got there after a short walk through the ruther sandy path, though some flower-besprinkled. I knew which wuz the mournin’ cabin by the mules and old horses hitched along the fence in front of it.
I went in and obtained a seat near the door. It seemed that it wuz the funeral of a young man taken sick at the place where he worked and come home to die. He had been waiter in a hotel at Wyandotte. The mournin’ was evidently sincere; certainly it wuz loud and powerful.
The minister seemed to want to administer consolation to the mournin’ group; his text wuz choze with distinct reference to it, and his words wuz meant to cheer. But he got his metafors mixed up and his consolation twisted.
But mebby they took it all straight and right, and if they did it wuz all the same to them.
His text wuz choze from the story of the child’s death in the Old Testament, and the words wuz these:
“We shall go to him, but he shall not return to us.”
The minister wuz a short, thickset negro, with a high standing collar, seemin’ to prop up his head, and a benevolent look in his eyes and his good-natured mouth.