le the funeral could not be put
off.

She glanced round the house preparatory to locking it up and starting
to notify Anthony Croft. She would just run over and talk to him about
ordering the coffin; then she could attend to all other necessary
preliminaries herself. The remains had been well-to-do, and there was no
occasion for sordid economy, so aunt Hitty determined in her own mind to
have the latest fashion in everything, including a silver coffin plate.
The Butterfield coffin plates were a thing to be proud of. They had
been sacredly preserved for years and years, and the entire
collection--numbering nineteen in all had been framed, and adorned the
walls of the deceased lady's best room. They were not of solid silver,
it is true, but even so it was a matter of distinction to have belonged
to a family that could afford to have nineteen coffin plates of any
sort.

Aunt Hitty planned certain dramatic details as she walked town the road
to Croft's. It came to her in a burst of inspiration that she would have
two ministers: one for the long prayer, and one for the short prayer and
the remarks. She hoped that Elder Weeks would be adequate in the latter
direction. She knew she couldn't for the life of her think of anything
interesting about Mrs. Butterfield, save that she possessed nineteen
coffin plates, and brought her hens to Edgewood every summer for their
health; but she had heard Elder Weeks make a moving discourse out of
less than that. To be sure, he needed priming, but she was equal to
that. There was Ivory Brown's funeral: how would that have gone on if it
hadn't been for her? Wasn't the elder ten minutes late, and what would
his remarks have amounted to without her suggestions? You might almost
say she was the author of the discourse, for she gave him all the
appropriate ideas. As she had helped him out of the wagon she had said:
"Are you prepared? I thought not; but there's no time to lose. Remember
there are aged parents; two brothers living, one railroading in Spokane
Falls, the other clerking in Washington, D. C. Don't mention the
Universalists,--there's ben two in the fam'ly; nor insanity,--there 's
ben one o' them. The girl in the corner by the clock is the one that
the remains has been keeping comp'ny with. If you can make some genteel
allusions to her, it'll be much appreciated by his folks."

As to the long prayer, she knew that the Rev. Mr. Ford could be relied
on to pray until aunt Becky Burnham s