far. To undertake New York was hardly less remarkable than to run
over to the moon for a few days.

When he brought the news home he could hardly get up the front steps
with it. When he announced it at the table, and tried to be careless,
his hand trembled till the saucerful of coffee at his quivering lips
splashed over on the clean red-plaid table-cloth.

The occasion of Thropp's call to New York was this: he had joined
a "benevolent order" of the Knights of Something-or-other in his
early years and had risen high in the chapter in his home town.
When one of the members died, the others attended his funeral in
full regalia, consisting of each individual's Sunday clothes,
enhanced with a fringed sash and lappets. Also there was a sword
to carry. The advantage of belonging to the order was that the
member got the funeral for nothing and his wife got the further
consolation of a sum of money.

Mrs. Thropp bore her neighbors no more ill-will than they deserved,
but she did enjoy their funerals. They gave her husband an excuse
for his venerable silk hat and his gilded glave. Sometimes as she
took her hands out of the dough and dried them on her apron to fasten
his sash about him, she felt all the glory of a medieval countess
buckling the armor on her doughty earl. She had never heard of such
persons, but she knew their epic uplift.

Now, Mr. Thropp had paid his dues and his insurance premiums
for years and years. They were his one extravagance. Also he had
persuaded Mrs. Thropp's brother Sol to do the same. Sol had died
recently and left his insurance money to Mrs. Thropp. Sol's own wife,