The thing being quite natural, the newspaper makes no comment upon it. It only supplies it with a good heading, something like A Leg gone to Heaven in advance of its Owner.
A certain Mr. Ambrose R., of Pittsburg, evidently intending to be a defaulter at the Last Judgment, has drawn up a will giving these directions for the disposal of his remains:
"I direct that my body be taken to St. Michael's Church, and, after the proper religious services are performed, that it be given in charge of my family, who will convey it to Samson's Crematory, and there have it burned to ashes, the ashes to be put in a small bottle and given in charge of the German Consul in Pittsburg. This gentleman will then forward my ashes to the Consul in New York, who will give them in charge of the captain of the German steamer Elba, who will place them securely in his ship for the ocean voyage. When at mid-ocean, I direct the captain to request one of the crew to ascend to the top of the topmost mast with my ashes in his hand, and, after pronouncing a last benediction, to extract the cork from the bottle and cast its contents to the four winds of heaven. I direct also, while this ceremony is being performed, that it be witnessed by all the passengers on board. After the Elba has completed her trip and returned again to New York, I want a full statement of my death and the scattering of my ashes in mid-ocean published in the Pittsburg papers, so that my friends in this city shall know my burial-place."
This reminds me of Chateaubriand's ocean burial, but the sprinkling adds a touch of humour of which poor Chateaubriand was wholly destitute.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Advertisements.—Marvellous Puffs.—Illustrated Ditto.—A Yankee on the Look-out for a Living.—"Her Heart and a Cottage."—A Circus Proprietor and the President of the United States.—Irresistible Offers of Marriage.—A Journalist of all Work.—Wanted, a Frenchwoman, Young, Pretty, and Cheerful.—Nerve-calming Syrup.—Doctors on the Road.—An Advocate Recommends Himself to Light-fingered Gentlemen.—Mr. Phineas Barnum, the King of Showmen.—Nothing is Sacred in the Eyes of Phineas, the Modern Phœnix.—My Manager regrets not being able to Engage Mr. Gladstone and Lord Randolph Churchill for Platform Work in the United States.
he Americans of to-day are so blasé on the matter of advertisements, that it is difficult to attract their attention without getting up extravagant baits for their eyes.