S48 MARX TWAIN'S SKETCHES. 



more or less, and he didn't wish to be kept layin' around. You never see such 

 a clear head as what he had — and so ca'm and so cool. Just a hunk of brains — 

 that is what he was. Perfectly awful. It was a ripping distance from one end 

 of that man's head to t'other. Often and Over again he's had brain fever a- 

 raging in one place, and the rest of the pile didn't know anything about it — 

 didn't affect it any more than an Injun insurrection in Arizona affects the 

 Atlantic States. 



" Well, the relations they wanted a big funeral, but corpse said he was down on 

 flummery — didn't want any procession — fill the hearse full of mourners, and get 

 out a stern line and tow him behind. He was the most down on style of any 

 remains I ever struck. A beautiful simple-minded creature — it was what he 

 was, you can depend on that. He was just set on having things the way he 

 wanted them, and he took a solid comfort in laying his little plans. He had me 

 measure him and take a whole raft of directions ; then he had the minister stand 

 up behind a long box with a table-cloth over it, to represent the coffin, and 

 read his funeral sermon, saying ' Angcore, angcore ! ' at the good places, and 

 making him scratch out every bit of brag about him, and all the hifalutin ; and 

 then he made them trot out the choir so's he could help them pick out the tunes 

 for the occasion, and he got them to sing ' Pop Goes the Weasel,' because he'd- 

 always liked that tune when he was down-hearted, and solemn music made him 

 sad ; and when they sung that with tears in their eyes (because they all loved' 

 him), and his relations grieving around, he just laid there as happy as a bug, 

 and trying to beat time and showing all over how much he enjoyed it ; and 

 presently he got worked up and excited, and tried to join in, for mind you he' 

 was pretty proud of his abilities in the singing line ; but the first time he opened 

 his mouth and was just going to spread himself his breath took a walk. 



" I never see a man snuffed out so sudden. Ah, it was a great loss — it was a 

 powerful loss to this poor little one-horse town. Well, well, well, I hain't got 

 time to be palavering along here — got to nail on the lid and mosey along ^ 

 with him ; and if you'll jiist give me a lift we'll skeet him into the hearse and 

 meander along. Relations bound to have it so — don't pay no attention to dying 

 injunctions, minute a corpse's gone; but, if I had my way, if I didn't respect his 



