ng. Josiah whispered to me along about the last that
"we had been there over seven hours, and his legs wuz paralyzed."

And I whispered back that "seven hours would take us into the night, and
to stretch his feet out and pinch 'em," which he did.

But it wuz long and tegus. My feet got to sleep twice, and I had hard
work to wake 'em up agin. The sermon meant to be about Wellington, I
s'pose; he did talk a sight about him, and then he kinder branched off
onto politics, and then the Inter-State bill; he kinder favored it, I
thought.

Wall, we all got drippin' wet a-goin' home, for Cephas insisted on our
gettin' out at the grave, for he had hired some uncommon high singers
(high every way, in price and in notes) to sing at the grave.

And so we disembarked in the drippin' rain, on the wet grass, and formed
a procession agin. And Cephas had a long exercise light there in the
rain. But the singin' wuz kinder jerky and curius, and they had got
their pay beforehand, so they hurried it through. And one man, the
tenor, who wuz dretful afraid of takin' cold, hurried through his part
and got through first, and started on a run for the carriage. The others
stood their grounds till the piece wuz finished, but they put on some
dretful curius quavers. I believe they had had chills; it sounded like
it.

Take it altogether, I don't believe anybody got much satisfaction out of
it, only Cephas. S. Annie sp'ilt her dress and bonnet entirely--they wuz
wilted all down; and she ordered another suit jest like it before
she slept. Wall, the next mornin' early two men come with plans for
monuments. Cephas had telegrafted to 'em to come with plans and bid for
the job of furnishin' the monument.

And after a good deal of talk on both sides, Cephas and S. Annie
selected one that wuz very high and p'inted.

The men stayed to dinner, and I said to Cephas out to one side--

"Cephas, that monument is a-goin' to cost a sight."

"Wall," sez he, "we can't raise too high a one. Wellington deserved it
all."

Sez I, "Won't that and all these funeral expenses take about all the
money he left?"

"Oh, no!" sez he. "He had insured his life for a large amount, and it
all goes to his wife and children. He deserves a monument if a man ever
did."

"But," sez I, "don't you believe that Wellington would ruther have S.
Annie and the children settled down in a good little home with sumthin'
left to take care of 'em, than to have all this money spent in pe