Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1880-07-28
A Lucky Die.
A STORY WITH A MORAL.

What the deuce ails me where am
l, anyhow? Wherever l am, springs
aud mattresses must be scarce. WUn'
der ifam dead? l feel mighty like it,
Maybe 1 am stretched out ready for the
doctor 10 carve me up.
These were my first thoughts-very
cheering indeed; as 1 became conscious,
l could neither speak nor move; put l
soon learned that could hear.
A door opened, footsteps approached,
| iclt cloth removed from ny face,
and voice, which recognized as that
of my intended father-ln-law.
'IIe hasn't changed much,' said he to
his companion, whose voice recogniz-
cd as Sowerby's, the undertaken.
There's just where you are mistaken
Mr.. Muffin, he looks a great deal better
dead than alive; but how does Priscilla
feel about it ? Take on much, eh 2
oh no, just enough to look well,
said the father ofmy aftianced. with q
chuckle. she never cared much fol
Smith it was his stamps she fancied'
My Priscilla is a practical girl, and
went for dimes, his carriage and grays,
although at the same time 1 must own
she was spoony on bald-pated Howard,
the artist, but he's as poor as Jobs
turkey, as the saying is
We'll. she can have him now for all
this poor cuss cares, can't she J.?
1 presume so, but she will have to
wait till the year Is up for fear of gossip.
But who gets the money, seeing the
poor cuss has no relations cues toned
the undertaken.
'Oh, that is all right. You see my
Priscilla is sensible. Before she pro-
missed to marry him she had him pro-
mise to make his will in her favor
Poor Smith was rather, snappy, you
know had nothing against him,
however, although he was decidedly
homely; and such a barn-door OF q
mouth, always open.'
Well said the cheerful voice Of the
undertaken, his mouth is tight enough
now; reckon he will never open it
again in this world. l reckon his i'm
mortal part is now with the angels
And my mortal part Is also with the
angels, thought Ia fine pair of angels!
1 felt indignant at their clumsy ridicule
1 tired to shut my fist, but never shut
was to it. l could do nothing but lis
ten. lie then began to measure me fol
my coffin. l had heard that undertaken;
whistled joyfully when they got m0as
ure. l Ibelieve 1t only to be joke or
the craft; but Sowerby actually strscE
up the air-'Pull Down the Blinds in
a subdued thrill while he measured me-
"A nobby casket and a hundred
hacks, eh, Mr.: MuffinS Must make s
big thing of ii. The cuss left lots O.
money, and remember, he was to be
your Prscilla's husband. Mast make
splurge, Mr.. Muliu, said the worthy
undortakcr,P with an eye in his OWL
pocket,
'Wcll, don't mind If the coffin il
just little nobby; but one hundred
hacks! the Ideuce! Just send one o
two for the mourners, and the rest whC
attend the funeral can furnish their Owl
rigs, Or hoof it, whichever suits then
the best
They covered my face again and lef
me TO my own reflections. 1 had oftel
heard it remarked that meditation va
good for the soul, and this was the best
opportunity ever had Of trying it.
An hour must have pass ed, and tn
door was again opened and two persons
came along to where l laid, and tn
voice OF my promised wife fell on m.
ear.
L dread TO look at him, Mr.. Howard
| he was so homely when living, he mus
| be frightful when dead.
1 ground my teeth in rage as 1 re-
membered how often she had gone init
raptures, or pretended to, over M
noble brow and expressive mouth, ant
would solemnly declare that i'll wer'
4 taken from her she would enter con
vent, take the veil, and never behol
the sun.
One of them raised the cloth.
knew they were looking at me-
Howard was the chap she was spoon
on. whom her father had mentioned.
Itseems to me you don't feel yer
bad about his dying, Miss Muffin ez
Iclaimed Howard deliberately.
Well, to tell the truth said my del
: betrothed, Il don't care very muc
Y about it. II he had lived, I suppose
It should have married him, because b
e was rich; but was getting sick Of m
bargain, for knew should always !
ASHAMED Of him.
Il But you love him. remarked How
D ard.
No l don'tl Ny affections wei
wasted long ago on one who never n
turned my love- And my last fadir
idol sighed heavily. They had no
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