The procession will climb high up, far away above Nagasaki, into the
heart of the green mountain all peopled with tombs. There the poor
fellow will be laid at rest, with his palanquin above him, and his
vases and his flowers of silvered paper. Well, at least the poor
defunct will lie in a charming spot commanding a lovely view.
They will now return half laughing, half sniveling, and to-morrow no
one will think of it again.