Part 17 (1/2)
When there was silence he said, with a certain biting shortness: ”Somebody must have told you”
”nobody told uessed right?”
”If you call it a guess--yes,” said the host, whose mortification had become painful to witness
”Well,” said the other quickly and pleasantly, ”'guess' perhaps isn't the right word, and, of course, I shouldn't therefore claim the reward
You see----,” and he then explained how he had remembered the odd experience in Yorkshi+re, and in default of any inventiveness of his own had used it ”So, of course,” he added, rising andisn't guessing; quite the reverse What a gorgeous ly, for the situation had becoeneral conversation; and gradually and uncomfortably bed-time was reached
Several of the party were at breakfast the nextwhen their host ained his custouest whose , he handed him a slip of paper
”I'm sorry, old ht, but the accuracy of that shot of yours dazed me Of course the offer stands All this cheque needs is for you to fill in the name of whatever hospital or charity you prefer”
”Thanks,” said the other as he put it in his pocket-book
ON EPITAPHS
Not long ago I was staying in a village where the shortest cut to the inn lay through the churchyard, and passing and repassing so often I came to know the dead inhabitants of the place ale of the author of ”Spoon River Anthology”--that very extraordinary and understanding book,--but in a kindly superficial way Indeed, considering that they were total strangers and their acquaintance not now to be hts of the round (or square) seance table, Sir Oliver and Sir Conan, sohts; but that was because of their naible, for Father Tier, dipped now in lichen and now in moss, or upon them his tears had fallen too steadily But many remained and some of them onderful Has it ever been explained why the dead have ? Did any one ever meet ”in the form” a Lavender Wiseways? Yet there was a Lavender Wiseways lying beneath one of those stones There was her sister too, lying close beside--Lavinia Wiseways Neither had married; but then how could they have performed a deed which would have lost thes, with a gaitered gentleman named Paradine Ebb? Yet once there was a Paradine Ebb, farreat distance from London, to shake by the hand, and chat to, and buy fat stock frolass with And who--but if I continue I shall betray the village's naet into print in these inquisitive days
It was not however of strange dead na when I took up my pen, but of the epitaphs on the to and po of real importance about the occupants of the narrow cells beneath and alift of life Why should not sorave a tribute to the world that is being left behind? Would that be so impious? There is no indication that any of these dead ever enjoyed alike this, for instance--
HERE LIES
HENRY ROBINSON
WHO LIVED IN THE BELIEF--AND, WITH MANY FAILURES, DID HIS BEST TO ACT OF TO IT--THAT IF YOU SPEND YOUR TIME IN TRYING TO MAKE THINGS A LITTLE EASIER AND MERRIER IN THIS WORLD, THE NEXT CAN TAKE CARE OF ITSELF
The whole insincere suggestion of most churchyards now is that life has been spent in a vale of tears: a long tribulation, merely a preparation for another and better world But we know that that is not usually the case, and we know that raveyard ideas of decorum and insurance, are happier than not There is in the God's Acre of which I a to be wary of earthly serenity: surely a very unfair line for the dead to take and not unremindful of the fable of the fox and his tail An elaborate stone close by the lych gate has a series of dreary couplets warning the passer-by that the next grave to be dugtoo happy he is adjured to a ht be kinder than that, enerous, more altruistic! I should like a headstone to bear some such motto as
”DIE AND LET LIVE”
But not only do the epitaphs suggest that life below is a snare; they are by noabout the life above The spirit they proclai can olden-mouthed advocate should arise whose eloquence half persuaded, the churchyard would beat hiloo efforts at resignation which the slabs record! We ought to be braver;to others A rector who allowed none but cheerful epitaphs would be worth his tithes
Would there be any very impossible impropriety in such an inscription as this--
HERE LIES
JOHN SMITH
WHO FOUND EARTH PLEASANT AND REJOICED IN ITS BEAUTIES AND ENJOYED ITS SAVOURS; WHO LOVED AND WAS LOVED; AND WHO WOULD FAIN GO ON LIVING HE DIED RELUCTANTLY, BUT WISHES WELL TO ALL WHO SURVIVE HIM