CHAPTER XXVI.

Whose part in all the pomp that fills,
The circuit of the summer hills.
Is that his grave is green.
And deeply would their hearts rejoice,
To hear again his living voice.

BRYANT.


The funeral, with the usual celerity with which such things are done
in our country, was to take place on the next day. Too often the haste
appears indecent, and it may be that in some instances the body has
been buried before life deserted it. It would seem that the family
felt constrained by the presence of the corpse, and compelled to
exercise an irksome self-control, and, therefore, desired to hurry it
under ground, as if it would be less likely there to know how soon it
was forgotten.

But in the present case there was no reason why the body should be
longer kept. There could be no doubt that life was extinct. It had
lain too long in the water to admit a ray of hope to the contrary.
The sooner it was placed in its final earthly home the better for
poor Jane Sill, the widow. Her grief would the sooner be mitigated, by
withdrawing her thoughts from the dead to fix them on the necessity of
providing for the living. Until the burial the sympathizing neighbors