vil RIVERSIDE LETTERS 55 



Venetian blinds. The undertaker's men 

 took large plumes of feathers out of black 

 bags and stuck them in the horses' heads 

 and on the hearse. Two " mutes " stood 

 on guard at the door with what looked 

 like brooms wrapped up in crape. Hor- 

 rible and gruesome was the garniture of a 

 funeral in those days, as no doubt you will 

 remember. 



I overheard my nurse saying that the poor 

 gentleman had died from a sore throat 

 ("bronchitis" was not invented then), from 

 which I gathered that a sore throat was 

 a mortal complaint and certain death ; and not 

 long afterwards, when my own throat may 

 have been a little relaxed, I recollect I lay 

 awake nearly a whole night, in fearful misery, 

 expecting death at any moment. 



The sight of this little yellow flower still 

 always recalls to me our old front garden and 

 our mysterious neighbours ; and it is rather a 

 curious fact that during all the years that have 

 intervened, I have never got any nearer to 



