CHAPTER VII. 



ON THE ROAD. 



HALL I mention his name ? 



It is S . He is an undertaker. 



He sits at his window on Tremont 

 Street ; and, as I pass up and down 

 in the horse-cars, I often have a 

 bow from him, also a sweet smile, being an ac- 

 quaintance. 



I know what he is saying to himself : 

 " One of these days, old fellow ! I'm waiting, 

 waiting patiently ; but you must come to my little 

 net one of these days." 



I don't think an undertaker is a cheerful acquaint- 

 ance anyway ; and I wouldn't care to add many 

 to my list of friends, though without doubt they 

 are an excellent class of people, but they look at 

 you as if you were somehow their property, only to 

 be waited for. 



79 



