“I'm sorry for you, Jules.”
“Did you see me at de church?”
“Yes, I went to the church.”
“You t'ink I feel bad—eh?”
“I thought you felt pretty bad.”
“You go to de graveyard, too?”
“No,” admitted his sympathizer, reluctantly, “I didn't go to the graveyard.”
“But dat was de fines'. You ought see me at de graveyard. You t'ink I feel bad at de church—I raise hell at de graveyard.”
The friend shuffled his feet and coughed behind his hand.
“Yes, I feel bad, me,” ruminated the bereaved man. “You get used to some woman in de house and not know where to get anodder.”