The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1875-09-21
Selfrt Stury.
THE SNUFF -COLORED SUIT.

scarcely know how it happened, but
timber must have fell and struck me
on the head.
The first thing that I realized after it
was that was straight and still on
something hard, and when tried to
move myself and speak, / found it I'M
possible to do so. l concluded that l
must be in some very tight dark place,
for / could not see. In fact, l soon
learned that,though perfectly conscious,
could do nothing but hear. A door
opened and footsteps approached; but l
felt cloth taken from my face, and a
voice that recognized as that of Mr..
Jones, the father of my wife that was to
be, said:
"He hasn't changed much" and his
companion, whose voice 1 recognized
as the village undertaken, Hopkins by
name, said lightly:
"Better looking dead than alive. How
does Jerusha feel about it? Take it on
much ?"
"Oh, no; she had her eye on another
fellow anyhow, and better match too,
except the money part. Though | had
nothing against Ben, only he didn't
know much, and was about the homeliest
man ever knew. Such mouth; why
it really seemed as though he was going
to swallow knife, plate, and all, when he
opened il at dinner"
"We.l," said the cheerful voice of
Hopkins, ''he'll never open his mouth
again." and then he proceeded to meas
ure me for my coffin, for it seemed that
l was dead, or they thought / was, which
was all the same to the greedy pocket
of the undertaken I had heard of un-
dertakers who always whistled joyfully
when they got measure, but l never
believed it before. But that man act
ually whistled subdued dancing tune
while he measured me, and it seemed to
me that three or four icicles were roll
ing down my back, to the music of his
whistle.
His duty done, they covered my face
again,a left me to my own reflections,
which were not particularly comforting,
although have often heard it remarked
that meditation was good for the soul,
and this was the best chance / ever had
of trying it.
An hour must have passed when the
door again opened, and two persons
came whispering along to where l lay,
and the voice of my promised wife fell
upon my ears.
81 dread to look at him, Bob; he was
so mortal homely alive, he must be
frightful, dead"
l ground my teeth in indignation, as
1 remembered how often She had gone
into raptures, or pretended to. over my
noble brow and expressive mouth; and
how she often declared that if l were
taken away from her she would surely
pine away and die
One of them raised the cloth and
knew they were looking at me. Bol
was her second cousin, and I knew that
he was that "other fellow whom hel
father had mentioned.
"Seems to me you don't feel very
bad about his dying, 'Rusha," remarked
Bob, meditatively.
"Well, to tell the TRUTH" said m,
dear trothed, 81 don't care very mucl
about it. If he had lived ! should hav
married him, because he was rich, an,
father wanted me to; but l was ge.tin
about sick of my bargain, for l knew
, should always be ashamed of him, h
looked 50 much like baboon"
"Bnt you loved him p remarked Bot
) mo, l didn't! My affection wa
} wasted long ago upon one who neve
returned my love-" and the fast fadin
Idol sighed heavily.
They had covered my face by thi
: time, and were standing few STEP
from where lay.
"About how long ago, 'Rusha2 p ash
| ed Bob.