e other night. It's what
ye call a coinsidence."
"What's that, Joe?"
"Well, t'ain't easy to explain, but it means two things happenin'
together in a most onlikely way--d'ye see?"
"No, I don't, Joe," replied Mrs Corney, helping herself to another
slice of toast.
"Well, it don't matter much," resumed Joe, "but this is what it was: Mr
Dale an' me was sittin', about two in the mornin', at the station fire
smokin' our pipes (for it was my turn on duty) an' chattin' away about
one thing an' another, when somehow we got upon tellin' our experiences,
an' Dale he tells me a story o' how he was once called to a fire in a
cemetary, an' had to go down among the coffins--for they was afire--an'
what a fright some o' his men got, when, just as he had finished, an'
all my flesh was creepin' at wot I'd heard, there comes a ring at the
bell an' a call to a fire in Portland Street. I runs an' gets out the
ingin, an' Frank (he was my mate that night) he rings up the boys, an'
away we wint in tin minutes. It wasn't far, an' when we got there in we
wint into the house, which was full o' smoke, but no fire to be seen.
We wint coughin' and sneezin' an' rubbin' our eyes down into a cellar,
where the lads of another ingin was at work before us wi' the
hand-pumps, an', would ye belaive it? but the walls o' that cellar was
lined wi' coffins! True for ye, there they was, all sizes, as thick as
they could stand. I thought I was dramin', but it was no drame, for it
was an undertaker's shop; an' when I wint upstairs, after we diskivered
the fire an' put it out, I sees two coffins on tressels lyin' ready for
use. Wan was black-painted wood, no doubt for a poor man, an' nothin'
inside o't. The other alongside was covered wid superfine black cloth
an' silver-mounted handles, an' name-plate, an' it was all padded inside
an' lined wid white satin!"
"White satin, Joe? You're jokin'."
"As sure as your name's Molly, it was white satin," repeated Joe; "I
wouldn't have belaived it av I hadn't seen it; but that's the way the
quality goes to their graves. I looks at the two coffins as I was
comin' away, an' thinks I to myself, I wonder whether the poor man or
the rich man'll be most comfortable when they're laid there?"
"Now, Molly, I'll bid ye good-night an' be off to see this owld lady,
this Mrs Denman. Look afther that boy, now, an kape the matches out of
his way, whativer ye do."
With this very needful warning, Joe Corney kissed h
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