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THE CAMDEN JOURNAL. !
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VOLUME 3. CAMDEN, SOUTH-CAROLINA, AUGUST 10, 1852. .NUMBER 64.
THE CAMDEN JOURNAL.
published semi-weekly and weekly by
THOMAS J. WARREN.
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From the Youth's Magazine.
THE CROP OF ACORNS.
BT LTDIA H. SIGOURNEY. |
There came a man in days of old,
To hire a piece of land for gold, I
And urged his 6uit in accents meek, <
11 One crop alone is all 1 seek;
That harvest o'er, my claim 1 yield,
And to its lord resign the field." I 1
l
The owner some misgivings felt,
And coldly with the strangpr dealt. <
But found his last objection fail, <
And honeyed eloquence prevail, s
So took the proffered price in hand,
And for one crop leased out the land.
The wily tenant sneered with pride, 1
It And sowed the spot with acorns wide ;
At first :ike tiny shoots they grew,
Then broad and wide their branches threw ; (
?m But long before those oaks sublime,
Aspiring, reached their forest prime, I
The cheated landlord mouldering lay, .
Forgotten, with his kindred clay. 1
1
O ye, whose years unfolding fair, I
Are fresh with youth, and free from care, i
.Should vice or indolence desire i
The garden of your souls to hire,
No patley hold?reject the suit, 1
Nor let one seed the soil pollute.
My child, their first approach beware; <
With firmness break the insidious snare, I
Lest, as the acorns grow and throve '
Tntoa sini-Hxcliidini? erove.
Thy sins, a dark o*eirshadowing tree,
Shut out the light of heaven from thee
BORROWING.
Will Wag went to see Charles Quirk,
More fam'd for his books than his knowlt dge.
In order to borrow a work <
Which he'd sought for in vain over college.
But Charley replied, "My dear friend,
You must know I have sworn and agreed
My books from my room not to lend?
But you may sit by my fire and read."
\ Now it happened by chance on the morrow
^ That Quirk, with a cold, quivering air,
" Come, his neighbor's bellows to borrow,
> For his own were out of repair.
But Willy replied: "My dear friend, <
I have sworn and agreed, yon must know,
That my bellows I never will lend?
* r?..j ?i ?? ?/ i??
1UUI yuu may au c/y my jn c urni .
Married Life.?Julius M >ser gives the following
counsel, from a wife and mother: "I try
to make myself and all around me agreeable.? j
It will not do to leave a man no pains to attract
him, or to appear before him with a long face.? ,
It is not so difficult as you think, dear child, to ]
behave to a husband so that he shall remain for- j
ever in some measure a husband. I atn an old ]
woman, but you can still do what you like: a
word from you at the right time will not f il of
its effect. What need have you to play the
suffering virtue. The tear of a loving girl, says |
an old book, is like the dew drop on the rose; but j
that on the cheek of a wife is a drop of poicon j
to her husband. Try to appear cheerful and ,
contented and your husband will be so; and when |
you have made him happy, you will become so, ,
not in appearance, but in reality. The skill required
is not so great. j
n man cr\ muoli no IKa
IiiVtuur^ uatl^io a iunu nu UJUVII vuv? ,
. piness of his wife: he is always proud of himself j
f as the source of it. As soon as you will be live- (
tap ly and alert, and every moment will afford you ,
r an opportunity to let fall an agreeable word.-r- ,
Your education, which gives you an immense ad- j
advantage, will greatly assist you; and your sen- ,
nihility will become the noblest gift that nature t
has bestowed on you, when it shows itself in af- (
fectionate assiduity, and stamps on every action ,
a soft, kind and tender character, instead of wast- ,
' ing itself in secret repinings. ,
Dissipation softens the soul so much, that the s
most superficial employment becomes a burden,
and the sligjitestinconvenience an agony. Tin* '
t roses of pleasures seldom last long enough to i
adorn the brow of him who plucks them; for ]
they are the only roses which do not retain their i
sweetness after they have lost their beauty.
The Pope has sent a messenger to Vienna to
remonstrate against the heavy demands made on
the Papal treasury by Austria, for the mainten
a anoe of troop?.
MARRYING A REALTY.
" More poetry from poor Meadows, more ' woful
ballads made to his mistress'eyebrow,'"said
the fairest of young widows, as she held up about
half a quire of pale pink note-paper to the vexed
eyes of her humble companion ; " really the young
man makes himself very ridiculous."
" Very ridiculous, indeed !" said Miss Hindley,
who felt a great horror of Meadows, considering,
with justice, that if her patroness were to select
an humble servant, she would soon cease to stand
in need of an humble companion. 441 really wonder,
dear Mrs. Temple, that a person of your fine
mind can encourage the young man in his folly ;
the love of one so weak and silly is very little
. i 1
worm uaving.
44 Nay, Miss Hind ley," said the beauty," his '
love is at loa-t disinterested ; don't I know that
the second time he came to my house you '.old
bim that the whole income was, by the will of |
my late husband, to pass from me if I married
ugain ? And don't I know that you make this
communication to all single men between twenty
and sixty ? expressing your regret in a very soft
tone of voice, at poor misguided Mr. Temple being
influenced by his relations to make a will so
unjust to his wife, while you are thinking at the
time in your owin mind, that Mr. Temple and
his relations were perfectly right, and that Mrs.
Temple has all the inclination to make herself
ridiculous were she not deprived of the power of
doing it."
Miss Hindley colored violently ; the accusation
was perfectly just; butshe only clasped her hands
together and said,14 Dear Mrs. Temple you do
not know half the affection I have for you. 1
am aware that money is quite an unnecessary
idjunct to one so fascinating as you are; but I
confess I should like to see you loved for yourself."
44 And is it not a proof that I am loved for
myself," asked Mrs. Temple, rather sharply, when
> ninn r>f itirlpnorwlpnf fi.rtnrm anvirtus tri mar
-
ry me, although he knows that a second marriage
will deprive me of every shilling that I
possess ?"
44 No," said Miss Hindley. who was not deficient
in shrewdness, " I do not think it proves
tnv such thing. Mr. Meadows loves you only
for your beauty; now, your beauty is at present
i part of yourself, but it will not permanently
t>e so; it will fade and decline when your conreisations
and your accomplishments remain in
full perfection ; your admirer does not estimate
these, he only thinks of your outward appearance."
41 IIow can you possibly tell that, Miss Hindley
?" asked the fair widow.
4 Because," replied Miss Hindley, "Mr. Meadows,
when he speaks to you or of you, extols
only your personal charms; if you mention a
book, if you sing a song, does he not always
;ontrivc to bring in some absurd compliment to
your loveliness ?"
Mrs. Temple did not consider compliments to
lior loveliness quite so absurd as they were considered
by Miss Hiudhy; but as she had much
more sense than is usually allotted to the share
of keautv, she was ready to admit what indeed
she had long secretly admitted to herself, that
the fine speeches of Meadows were rather overdone,
that he appeared to regard her rather as
a " fair Circassian" than as an intellectual English
woman; and that it would be extremely
agreeable if he would sometimes converse with
her as a rational being, instead of carrying on
his courtship by a perpetual succession of sonnets,
sighs and compliments.
44 His cousin, Mr. Corbett, is a far more intellig-iit
companion." she said ; " In- admires Alfred
Tennyson as much as I do ; then how scientific
a second he sings, and what excellent remarks
he made on the cottage in the wood that I
sketched from nature, giving it all due commendation,
yet pointing out a fault in the shading ;
I like people who commend and find fault in
their proper places."
"Then you cannot like people," said Miss
Hindley, " who talk about your beauty, for that
is a subject which I am sure cannot give rise to
fault finding."
Adela Temple smiled, and glanced at herself
in an opposite looking-glass ; she was certainly a
brilliant beauty, but a beauty of a peculiar description
; her figure wa- pretty, but not fine;
her complexion, hair, and teeth would merely
have entitled her to tnc appellation of a nicelooking
person ; her eyes constituted her beauty
?such eyes were surely never seen ! Dancing,
glittering, flashing?now laughing so gaily that
it seemed immaterial whether the lips were
laughing or not?now veiled under the shade of
long d; rk fringed eyelashes?now eloquent with
intelligence?now melting with sensibility : they
were lurge hazel eyes, but they could in turn
look as animated its black eyes, as soft as blue,
*nd as sober as grey ones ; they were eyes that
brought all sorts of quotations from the poets
into the head of every one who knew anything
il>oui the poets, and made the plain prosaic
people of this work-a-<lay world shake oti" their
xunmon places and express their admiration in
some such freak of speech as that employed by
die gallant dustman who said he should like to
light his pipe at the eyes of the Duchess of Devonshire
! And those eyes were the constant
.heme of Meadows' tongue and pen, and those
;yes were eulogized on ihe pale pink paper, in
verse which Adela Temple had the patience to
cad to the end, although they were certainly
very trite and intrepid.
44 Not quite in the style of Alfred Tennyson,"
;aid Miss Ilindlev, in a caustic tone of voice.
44 Perhaps not," said Mrs. Temple, quickly,
'but all men cannot be poets any more than all
women can be beauties. I am determined, Miss
[Iindley, to return to London next Tuesday, by
the railroad.
******
Meadows and his cousin were sauntering slowly
dor/n Regent street.
" Congratulate me," said the former; " I have
received the most encouraging and delightful
letter from Adela. She will be in London to
morrow. I lmve the most sanguine hopes that
I shall soon have the happiness of calling her
mine. I am not at all deserving of her."
44 Not at all, in my opinion," said Corbet, pensively.
People do not always like to be agreed with,
44 And pray why am I unworthy of her?"
asked Meadows rather indignantly.
" Because vou onlv value her beaut v." renlied
^ ^ y ? A
Corbet, "custom will render that beauty familiar
to you, years will rob it of its brilliancy, and
your love will deteriorate in proportion. I wish
you valued her mental attainments as highly
as?"
[ " As you do," I suppose ?" interrupted Mea'
dows, rather scornfully.
I "As I do," repeated his cousin temperately,
i " I cannot compete with you, Meadows, in the
goods of fortune, or in captivation of manner;
but I have an income quite sufficient for every
comfort, and I would have gladly laid it at the
feet of Mrs. Temple, if she had given me the
least encouragement to do so. I certainly admire
her appearance, but I have never coveted
personal loveliness in a wife; her temper, mind
and manners are the great sources of attraction
I to me."
"Temper, mind and manners are all very well
in their wav, responded his cousin ; " but I could
never be happy if I did not marry a beauty."
44 May you find all the happiness you anticipate
in such an union," said Corbett;44 and may
you constitute the happiness of her who deserved
to be loved for qualifications very superior
to the charms of the countenance! And
here the cousins scperated.
******
"Another railway accident in the papers."
said old Mr. Bridgemore, as he mumbled over
the newspapers. "Concussion at the Vauxhall
terminus?no lives lost, but sevoral of the pas
sengers materially hurt. The beautiful Mrs.
Temple has received a dreadful injur}'; the sharp
corner of a dressing case having literally crushed
one of her eyes. She is now lying dangerously
ill at her home in NVinpole street, attended by a
physician and a surgeon."
44 Why, Celestina, my love, (said Mrs. Bridgemore
to her daughter,) that is the beautiful young
widow that Meadows raves about. Upon my
i t i t* i rv.
wuru i am sincerely sorry ior mm. suppose
she loses her eye ?"
"Then she will lose her lover," said Celestina?
a prim, plain spinster, with dull greenish grey
eyes; " I think the disappointment will be a proper
punishment for him. I used to like Meadows
very \v? 11, but I have been perfectly worn out by
his insane raptures about Mrs. Temple's dazzling,
eyes; actually he seemed to fancy her a twin sister
of the Princess Brilliant in the fairy tale.,'
" She is a fine creature," said young Bridgemore,
" and I dare say she will look very well,
even with the loss of one of her eyes."
" There I quite disagree with you," said his
sister; "her charms depend upon having her
countenance well lighted up; these accidents
make one have quite a horror of railwavs; such
a thing might have happened to oneself."
And Miss Bridgemore looked complacently in
the glass, feeling that her greenish eyes were an
unquestionable pair, and left the room to put on
her walking attire, and call on half a dozen neighbors
to claim tbeir sympathy for the shock her
feelings had sustained from the disastrous announcement
of that morning's papers.
*******
The beautiful Mrs. Temple lay in a violent fever
; the physician and surgeon looked grave;
Meadows wason the brink of lunacy; Corbett sad
in his looks, and constant in his enquiries; Miss
Hit dloy was a tender, kind and ca eful nurse.?
At length the patient was "pronounced out of
danger.
" But will the sight of the eye be restored ?"
said Meadows, passionately, to Miss Hindley, as
she walked down to the drawing room to communicate
the cheering intelligence to him.
Mi<s Hindley shook her head.
u Let us be thankful that her life is preserved,"
she said, "and we will not think about her eye."
" Not think about her eye!" exclaimed Meadows
; is life worth having on such terms ?"
Miss Hindley regarded him with something
like contempt.
"Are talent, money, and health of no value
to the possessor, or to others ?" she asked.
"Nothing can compensate a woman for the
loss of beauty," he replied.
Miss Hindley did not, above once in a twelvemonth,
indulge herself in the relaxation of speaking
her mind: an humble companion has no right
meiro ovf rnvntirnnt ?n linr InvurioQ lmf <;h<>
was on the point of favoring Meadows with some
very candid strictures, when the door opened, .and
Corbett, who had heard the good news from the
servants, rushed into the room in such a paroxysm
of joy, that Meadows was glad to seize the
opportunity to make his escape, to the satisfaction
of Miss Uindley, who began to recollect thatu it
was never good policy to affront anybody ; and
that after all Mr. Meadows had only proved himself
to be silly and selfish as she had always believed
him to be."
A few weeks elapsed. Mrs. Temple was convalescent,
and sat in her drawing-room to receive
visitors; she was elegantly dressed ; her complexion,
although paler, was just as clear as usual;
her hair flowed in ringlets just as graceful, nnd
the railway concussion had not robbed her of her
white teeth; but a broad band of blach velvet
. 1 1 . _ * 1 A J 1 1 .. -t- _
was tied over ner rignt eye, ana nooouy, wno
did not behold it, could lmve any idea of the
alteration it wrought in her appearance.
In fact she would never have been called a
beauty had it not been for the splendor of die
eyes that illuminated her features; and now the
solitary eye, dancing, sparkling and flashing by
itself, looked almost preternatural, like the eye of
a heroine in a German story of witchcraft. Its
exceeding beauty drew constant attention to its
want of a companion. Had it been an ordinary
eye its loneliness would not have been half so
conspicuous. Adela was in good spirits, and ex
pressed herself most grateful for her restoration
to health. Ail her friends tame to see her, some
from sympathy, some from curiosity, some from
triumj. h. Corhett no longer thought her a beauty,
but he continuid to think her the most delightful
person he had ever conversed with.
Meadows, on the contrary, could not conceal the
shock he felt at her disfigurement, and he told
the Bridgemores, the next day, that " he did not
think he should ever have the resolution to call
on Mrs. lempie again.
''Dear me, said Celestina, with affected amiability;
"I do not see why you need give up all
thoughts of her; try and persuade her to get a
glass eye; it would look a vast deal better than a
velvet band."
"A glass eye!" repeated Meadows with ineffable.
contempt, gazing full into Ccle-tina's green;
ish grey eyes as bespoke, "that expedient might
answer very well, Miss Uridgeinore, if the other
eye resembled glass in the want, of animation and
expression; but can a glass eye sparkle? Would
it not mock the brilliancy of the other?
''For my part," said Bridgcmore, "I think it
does very well as it is; the remaining eye looks
all the brighter for the neighborhoi d of the black
velvet Is that not the way jewelers set off diamonds?"
"And there would be some advantage." said
young Bridgemore, laughing, "in having a oneeyed
wife; she would only be able to see half one's
goings on"
"The goings on" of Meadows, to do him justice,
were not like those of his friend Bridgeinore,
of a description to shun the light, and he only replied
to this consolatory suggestion by an indignant
"Pshaw!"
1'tli a*> ?t/Mi aiiWa ivli-nn itt\ ni'AMT
XA1CII VjUltC piU'll UJ? iuca VI
marrying Mrs. Temple," said Corbett, who was
of the party
"Assuredly," replied Meadows; "you will never
hear of my marriage, unless you hear at the same
time that 1 have united myself with a beauty?"
Several weeks elapsed; Corbett informed his
cousin that he was accepted by Adda, Temple,
and invited him to the wedding. "We expect
all the near relations on each side," he said.?
The party will amount to thirty."
"Thirty people going to the wedding!" exclaim|
ed Meadows, in horror; "I should have thought
i that your bride elect, considering her affliction,
would have wished to have been married in a
private manner."
"I do not know what you consider as an affliction,"
said Corbett, gravely, "my dear Adela is
i very thankful that the sight ot her left eye is uu
impaired."
"But have you consulted the most able Odette,
list.?" asked Mendows. "Is all hope gone?"
"I have not spoke to Adda on the subject,"
said Corbett, "but her physician is so old a
friend and Miss Hindley so very zealous and attentive.
that I ain sure nothing has been neglected
that can be of service to her."
"Poor Cobb 'tt! po.?r fellow!" said Mea lows,
compassionately, "I am sorry for you; I will cer
j tainly come; don't expect me, however, to write
any poetry on the occasion. I cannot eulogize
a bride with a solitary eye."
The wedding day came; everybody was in good
humor, l.ot excepting Miss Hindley, for the mother
of Corbett was just then in want of a companion,
and had willingly agreed to receive her. A
large party surrounded the bride atid the bride
' groom at the altar. Adda was beautifully dressed.and
looked very graceful; but shed a few tears,
and the effect of the tears dropping from a solitary
eye was, in the opinion of Meadows, very
ludicrous. The ceremony concluded, the party
returned to the vestry.
"Of course," whispered Meadows to tho bridegroom,
"you and your bride must set out from
the church door on your wedding excursion."
" Not so," said Corbett; " we return to Adela's
house, partake of breakfast with our friends,
and do not set out for Turnbridge Wells till the
middle of the day."
" She actually means to sit down to breakfast
in company with thirty people," soliloquized
Meadows, with a black velvet band tied over her
eye!" The party returned to the house and Adela
repaired to her room. Breakfast was shortly
announced, and Miss llindley requested the
guests not to wait for the bride, saying that she
doubted not they would find her in the breakfast
room.
There, indeed, she sat; and what was there in
her appearance which inadc some of the party
start, and others shriek, Meadows stand transfixed,
and the bridegroom rush to her with an exclamation
of delight? The black velvet band
was removed from the left eye, and no discoloration
or disfigurement was perceptible; the two
eyes danced, glittered and Hashed in the most
harmonious accordance.
"What magic has been at work!" exclaimed
Meadows in consternation.
"None at all," repiicd the beauty, "the newspapers
greatly exaggerated the very slight injury
my eye had received; my frame had sustained a
severe jar and my nerves a severe shock, and I
was dangerously ill for some time. I had reasons
of my own for wishing the world to believe that
I was partially disfigured. I re-appeared in society
with a black baud over my eye: nobody, of
course, asked me any question respecting the
matter; therefore I was not called upon to utter
an untruth. Dr. Duncan and Miss Ilindlcy
knew my secret, and have faithfully kept it.?
Don't look so disconcerted, Mr. Meadows; now
that I have again my looks, you will, perhaps,
write verses on me again. I will give you my
address at Turnbridge Wells and shall expect a
beautiful epithalam'um by to-morrow's post.
" Dearest Adela," said Corbett, when alone
with his bride,41 was this happy assumption of a
I black velvet band your own thought, or that of
j Miss Hindley ?"
| 4,My own thought entirely, Corbet," replied
his bride. 4,I found that Meadows loved mo
alone for my personal beauty, and I had a peculiar
reason to dread a love of that description.?
I married Mr. Temple when little more than a
child; he was violently enamored of my beauty,
and immoderately jealous of me, Oh, Corbett,
-a - - ???
you have not an idea what a life of confinement
j and dullness I ltd. Ilad I not possessed many
| resources and occupations I really think I should
: have gone out my senses. I was insulud with
degrading suspicious; my very servants were
bribed to be sj it s uj on me. How often I wished
! that tny husband would think less of my beauty
! and more of my good sense and good principles!
; Even my walks were ciicuirscribed and few; my
j brilliant eyes did all the mischief, they were sure
1 to bring a host of gazers upon me and tny Torn
]>le per istrd in thinking that 1 invited and encourawed
the admiration I excited. At length
! lie died, and his will stated that I was to forfeit
all claim to his for.une if I married again. I was
! vexed and hurt at his want of kindness and confidence
and when I took place in society I often
thought that if I married I hojxid it would be to
some one who would prize my mind above my
person. Meadows d d not at all answer this re(
quis'tion; but yet I was pleased and flattered by
I his attentions, and could not endure the thought
| of dismissing him. Frequently did I wonder
j within myself how he would act if by any uuforseen
mischance I were to be deprived of beauty,
and the railway accident gave me an opportunity
of ascertaining this fact. I shall never
forget Corbett, the generous delicacy wMi which
you forbore making the slightest allusion to my
supposed misfortune when you asked for my
hand. I have bestowed it on you with the greatest
pleasure, feeling that your love for me is based
on esteem and friendship; and although I have
just been complaining to you of the confinement
to which I was subjected for several years of my
life, do not imagine that I am disposed to rush
into the contrary extreme, and to 'stale me to the
people's eyes,' because I am worth looking at.?
I am quite as fond of peace and quiet as youras
self, and I undertake to say that y<?u shall lead
domestic a life as if you had united yourself to the
variest dowdy of vour acquaintance, instead of
unwarily committing the hazardous action of
marrying a beauty!"
Origin of the Cacdle Lectures.?Douglass
Jerrold, in the preface to the new edition of the
Caudle Lectures, gives the following singular account
of their original conception:
It was, says Mr. JerroM, a black, thick, wintry
afternoon, when the writer stopped in front of
the playground 0/ a suburban school. The
ground swarmed with boys full of the Saturday's
holiday. The earth seemed roofed with the oldest
lead; and the wind rame sharp as Shylock's
knife, from the Minories. But these happy boya
ran ulul itTTtttlOppPCI H[J(TSTlOUtt'tl, And-??
uiuonsc ous men i:i miuiature!?in their own
world of frolic, lmdpio thought of the full length
men they would some day become; drawn out
into grave citizenship; formal, respectable, responsible.
To th'm the sky was of any and all
colors; and for that keen east wind?cutting
the shoulder blades of old, old men of forty?
they in their immortality of boyhood had the
redder faces, and the nimbler blood for it. And
the writer, looking dreamingly into that playground.
still mused on the robust jollity of those
little fellows, to whom the tax gatnerer was as
vet a rarer animal than a babv hippopotamus.
Heroic boyhood, so ignorant of the future iu the
knowing enjoyment of the present!
And the writer still dreaming and musing, and
sitll following no distinct line of thought, there
struck upon him, like notes of sudden household *
music, these words?Curtain Lectures. One
moment there was no living object save those
racing, shouting boys; and the next, as though
a white dove had alighted on the pen hand of
the writer, there was?Mrs. Caudle. Ladies of
the jury, are there not then, some subjects of let
tors that mysteriously assert an effect without
any discoverable cause/ Otherwise, wherefore
should the thought of curtain lectures grow from
a school ground?wherefore, among a crowd of
holiday schoolboys should appear Mrs. Caudle ?
rorthe lectures themselves, it is teared they
must be given up as a farcical desecration of a *
solemn time-honored privilege. It may be exercised
once in a life-time, and that once having
the effect of a hundred repetitions, as Job lectured
his wife; and Job's wife, a certain Mohammedan
writer delivers, having committed a fault
in her love for her husband, he swore that on his
recovery he would deal her a hundred stripes.
Job got well, and his heart was touched and
taught by the tenderness to keep his vow and
still to chastise his helpmate, for he smote her
once with a palm branch having a hundred
leaves.
"What is a Fop.?The fop is a complete specimen
of an outside philosoj her. He is one
third collar one sixth patent leather, one fourth
stick, and the rest gloves and hair. As to his remote
ancestry there is some doubt, but it is now
pretty well settled that he is the son of a tailor's
goose. Nevertheless, such are useful. If there
were no tadpoles there would be no frogs. They
are not so entirely to blame for being devoted
to externals. Paste diamonds must have a splendid
setting to make them sell. Only it does
seem a waste of material, to put five dollars
worth of beaver on five cents worth of brains.
Lake Fish.?More than 30,'VO barrels ard
half barrrels of fish from Lakes Huron, Michigan,
and Superior, have been sold in the Cleveland
market since the opening of navigation this season.
<??>
Preparation.?Orders have been issued by
the Government of the United States fo* the con\i
*r? in Phi Lidfli'liia. of a lanre number of
bacr^;i<re waggons for ihe array. They are to be
readv as soon as practicable.
A physician passing by n stonemason's, baw'ed
out to liirn, "Good morning, Mr. ; hard t
work I see : you finish your gravestones as far as
'In Memory of,' and then you wait, I suppose, to
see who wants a monument next!" "Why,yes,"
replied the old man, resting for a moment on his
mallet, "unless some body is sick and you are
doctoring him, and then I keep right ou,"