Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1882-12-07
The Obituary Racket.
HWant an obituary?'

A rather short man, whose naturally
cheerful face wore q look of studied
grief that was in strange contrast to the
ruddy glow of his cheeks, stopped in
the doorway and pronounced this in
terrogatory in cherry tone of voice.
"Has another old citizen passed
away?" inquired the horse reporter
II never knew of one of them to die"
he continued, "but every little while
passing away occurs"
"The deceased" said the man in the
doorway, twas certainly an old resi-.
dent, and 1 may say that for purity of
-
"Oh, know what you are going to
say" interrupted the horse reporter.
"You were about to remark that, for
purity of purpose, strict fidelity to the
principles that ever guide the man of
honor and probity in dealing with his
fellow-men. our friend whose loss we
mourn stood pre-eminent among his
business associates Isn't that it?"
"That is certainly the tenor of what
1 had in mind, but there are other
things to be said about the deceased.
He was an aff-"
"You bet he was," said the horse re-
porter. II know oil about that, too.
He was an effectionate husband,
kind parent, and nowhere will his loss
be more keenly felt than within that
hallowed spot where human love is
ever strongest, human sorrow ever the
most poignant sacred precincts of
the domestic circle Amt that it?"
"Well, 1 certainly did intend to say
something like that" replied the short
man, "but that wasn't all In the hum
-
"That's right" again interrupted the
friend of Maud S. "'In the humber
walks of life, where poverty boldly
stalks, where crime is found, and where
disease marks with its gaunt finger
countless victims whose lives would
otherwise be bright and joyous, our
friend who is now no more was often
to berfound giving freely of the means
with which kind Providence has en-
dowed him to alleviate the sufferings of
those whom misfortune had ever held
within its iron grip Doesn't that
about cover what you were going to tell
me?"
"Yes," said the short man, "that's
something like it; but now that death
you're right again. but now that
death has stilled with its icy breath the
heart that such little time ago was
pulsating in all the vigor of healthful
manhood, and laid prone beneath his
silent but irresistible blow the rugged
form that had withstood SO bravely the
assaults of time, there is nothing left to
US but pallid tenement of clay--frail
emblem of the proud structure so in
stinct with life; teaching to all of us
with mournful directness the sad lesson
that in the midst of life we are in Mil
waukee-no, in death, mean-and
that this sad event should impress up
on us all the necessity of being pre-
pared to meet with clear conscience
the summons that calls us away from q
life of turmoil and trouble to one where
white-robed Peace stretches forth her
broad wings, where sorrow and strife
are unknown, and where our departed
brother now awaits our coming How
does that size up with what you were
about to remark ?"
"Why, that's it exactly" said the Wis
itor, sunny smile overspreading his
countenance. you've got it down
pretty fine, haven't youw
II should surmise that I had,' re-
piled the horse reporter. II dropped
onto this obituary racket early in the
action, and if anybody can ring one in
on me he can have the bum"
II guess won't print the obituary."
said the visitor. "The deceased was
only New Jersey man, any how, and
they say he never more than half pro-
vided for his family, and went to lodge
about five nights in the week. Some
said he removed to this state from the
penitentiary, but I don't know anything
about that He's dead, anyhow, and
dead men can't do anybody much good,
can they?"
"Not great deal," replied the horse
reporter.
"Well, so long," said the short man.
"Bon jour" responded the horse re-
porter. 81 don't know what bon jour
is, but heard the literary editor say it
the other day, and he's far too fly to
make any mistakes. > Chicago Irib-
aG,ge.