The Newtown bee., 1879-09-03

he was so homely when living, he must be frightful when dead"
 I ground my teeth in rage as remem- bered how often she had gone into rap lures, or pretended to, over my noble brow and expressive mouth, and would solemnly declare that if l were taken from her she would enter a convent, take the veil and never more behold the sun.
 One of them raised the cloth; I knew they were looking at me. Howard was the chap she was spooney on, whom her father had mentioned.
 Seems to me you don't feel very bad about his dying, Miss Mullins, exclaimed Howard, deliberately
 We'll, to tell the truth" said my be- trothed, don't care very much about it. If he had lived I suppose I should have married him, because he was rich but was getting about sick of my bar gain, for l know l should always be ashamed of him."
 But you loved him" remarked How ard.
 No, I didn't! My affections were wasted long ago on one who never re- turned my love" And my fast-fading idol sighed heavily They had now GOV cred my face again, and were standing within few feet of where lay.
 About how long ago, Miss Muffins?" asked Howard.
 "Oh, about a year or SOL with another sigh.
 About the time I went away?" inter- rupted the cautious Howard, coughing a little.
 "Wen, yes, about that length of time,' 3 assentcd my dear afianced.
 '' Now, Miss Mu- Muf- Muffins-you- oh! you don't mean to insinuate that LII, oh! oh! oh! too much bliss-am the lucky"
 "Now, see here-Pris-p -pris-cilla-oh let me call you by that melodious name. See here! l always loved you; not for your beauty, but for your artlessness 'pon my soul l did, ar would have pro- posed to you only heard you were en- gagged to the chap that is stretched there" ."
 "Oh! MT. Howardr' said Mrs. Smith that was to be, giving q little squcal.
 Don't Mir. Howard me. If you re- turn my affection you must call me by some pet names. Call me Harry; call me Lovey: but for Heavens sake don't MT. Howard mo, my own Priscilla" said Howard, in a quavering voice. asT hen l by q loud lip explosion! How mat got. 1 tried to grip or grate my teeth but never kick or grate, could l raise. 1 was obliged to grin and bear it. Bear it l had to; but grin 1 couldn't.
 Soon my company left, and was again entertained by own pleasant thoughts, until again felt the cloth gently remov- ed from my face. A soft, warm palm was laid on my forehead, and the low, sweet voice of Minnie Rivers whispered well, no matter what.
 Night came-so did the neighbors to my wake, and from two old crOnes who I tIN h -4 1 was to be buried next day
 "Of course you are coming to the funeral tomorrow. Mrs. Frizzlebaum ?'' said one of them.
 "Oh! dear, yes, surely. 1 hope it may turn out a fine day, for 1 want to enjoy the ride to the cemetery"
 then lost consciousness, and the next heard were the grating voices of Pris- cilla, my fiancee, and her mother. Alp parently they were brushing, dusting and giving the room a general sticking up be- fore the funeral.
 "Ts Howard to be one of the pail bearers?" asked the voice of my mother in-law that might have been.
 He would be gladly, but he hasn't g suit of black clothes," said my sweetest remember Smiths black broadcloth; the suit is brand nav. 1 know it will fiji Howard. Call him in, he's sitting in the kitchen. and let him try them on" Now, this black suit was a particular tavorite of mine, perfect fit, that sci my person off to great advantage, and il made by blood boil to hear them talk SC coolly of transferring it to my rival, to be worn at my own funeral. I was getting very mad now. 1 felt the crisis was near. and that I should either die or ex. l, I 1o.l l.. suit. Priscilla took it down from tho peg-E know it, for I heard the buckles | iingle-and made for the door. 1 tried to shake my fist, and yell at her, but al in vain, and there 1 lay outwardly calm as lamb, my inwards boiling witt wrath It was too much! The deepes trance could not have held out agains that suit; with powerful effort 1 sprans up and howled. Priscilla dropped my clothes, her mother the duster, and bctl bounded out ot the room squealing lik, shot rabbits. With difficulty 1 managed to get my clothes, and had just got in side of my pants when Mrs. Mullins an( her daughter, headed by the undertaken peered in at the door; a motley compan, of women and smutty-faced childrel stood in their rear. Such scared-look Ing owls; enough to amuse dead man So I laughed. It was not very becom ing; but laughed peal after peal till m, sides began to ache. Then the under taker. ventured near me, saying, rathe dubiously:
 So you are not dead yet, MT Smith ?"
 Well, no, not exactly; sorry to dis appoint my friends about the funeral however"
 "Yes," he assented, absently; bad rather-that is-ahemn'
 Fooled out of the dimes, carriage am greys, my gal, thought l, as I looked a Priscilla.
 "Go speak with him." said her father in an undertone; '' act your part well.
 They now began to gather around ID and to congratulate me on my narrON escape. l noticed they cried a great des more than when l was dead. Priscill came and hung on my neck, snivelin desperately. gave her not over gentl push from me, and told her to wait neX time till I was safely buried before sh meddled with my clothes.
 "Oh! I'm so gladp' she said, sweetlJ without appearing to notice what l sai about my clothes, "that you are nc dead, dear. My heart seemed withere and broken to see you lying so col and white. I wept bitterly over you poor, angelic face, my darling" "Oh! yes, so you did. I heard yo ! and Howard take on at a furious rate It was lucky die for ne, my lucky" ! "Could you hear?" she gasped.