CHAPTER II.--FUNERAL TRAPPINGS.

The mules were never found.

Reginald's heart-broken mother took the body home to her

unfortunate son's widows. But before her arrival she

indiscreetly sent a boy to Bust the news gently to the afflicted

wives, which he did by informing them in a hoarse whisper that

their "old man had gone in."

The wives felt very badly indeed.

"He was devoted to me," sobbed Emily.

"And to me," said Maria.

"Yes," said Emily, "he thought considerably of you, but not so

much as he did of me."

"I say he did!"

"And I say he didn't!"

"He did!"

"He didn't!"

"Don't look at ME, with your squint eyes!"

"Don't shake your red head at ME!"

"Sisters!" said the black-haired Henrietta, "cease this unseemly

wrangling. I, as his first wife, shall strew flowers on his

grave."

"No you WON'T," said Susan. "I, as his last wife, shall strew

flowers on his grave. It's MY business to strew!"

"You shan't, so there!" said Henrietta.

"You bet I will!" said Susan, with a tear-suffused cheek.

"Well, as for me," said the practical Betsy, "I ain't on the

Strew, much, but I shall ride at the head of the funeral

procession!"

"Not if I've been introduced to myself, you won't," said the

golden-haired Nelly; "that's my position. You bet your bonnet-

strings it is."

"Children," said Reginald's mother, "you must do some crying, you

know, on the day of the funeral; and how many pocket-handkerchers

will it take to go round? Betsy, you and Nelly ought to make one

do between you."

"I'll tear her eyes out if she perpetrates a sob on my

handkercher!" said Nelly.

"Dear daughters in-law," said Reginald's mother, "how unseemly is

this anger! Mules is five hundred dollars a span, and every

identical mule my poor boy had has been gobbled up by the red

man. I knew when my Reginald staggered into the door-yard that

he was on the Die, but if I'd only thunk to ask him about them

mules ere his gentle spirit took flight, it would have been four

thousand dollars in OUR pockets, and NO mistake! Excuse those

real tears, but you've never felt a parent's feelin's."

"It's an oversight," sobbed Maria. "Don't blame us!"

The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 3: Stories and Romances · 第 2 / 4 章