The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1885-12-31
UNCLE GEORGE.
How He Was Planted in Ship Shape and
Proper Manner.

cident until miner named Big Pete
comes into my drift and calls out to
me:
Hi, therel but Uncle George has
been killed by lumpl We must take
the body to the shaft, and 60 up
with It'll"
Sure enough, the old man was dead.
Something like ton of coal had broke
out of the roof and fallen upon him.
Death wasn't rare thing with us down
there, but the sudden taking off of I'm
Gle George brought sadness to our
hearts. We knew him for big-souled,
good-natured man, and we knew his
wife as woman who ever spoke kindly
of all, and was ever ready at the bed
side of the sick or dying. 1t was q
blow to crush her heart.
Well, we got the body above ground
and sent it home, and by-and-by, when
the funeral business began to be talked
up, lot of us young fellows determin-
ed that Uncle George should be laid
away like white man and Christian.
Our ordinary funerals meant nothing
more than prayer, and hymn, and
quick trip to the graveyard.
We sent into Scranton and got di-
vine. They called him a divine, but he
was nothing but q preacher. He seem
ed dapper and trihing to us, so Big
Pete thought best to take him aside
and say:
Nov, parson, no tomfoolery in this
business, you know! Uncle George
was good man, and you want to lay it
on thick. We want some singing, then
a eulogy or something about that size;
then s'more singing; then we'll all take
a look at the kind old face; then we'll
carry the coffin out and start for the
graveyard. When we git there we
want s'more singing, little more pray
ing, and we'll lower him away in good
shape and kiver him in. Mind, now
| no monkey-work on us!"
The divine looked a little pale around
| the gills, but he seemed to fall in with
the idea, and was on hand at the APP
pointed hour. 1t was q half-holiday
with our shift, and we were there to a
man. The general bossing of the flu
neral was left to Big Pete, and things
went like clockwork. He soothed the
widder, arranged the mourners, packed
the audience, and had the coffin shored
up in the safest manner. 1 never saw
an opening performance pass off more
smoothly.
At the proper time the divine took
hold. Pete had forgot to coach him
about the hymns, and he gave out one
about beautiful other shore or some
thing. He started to sing, but he was
all alone in it. We'd never heard tune
or words. He wobbled along to the
end of the first verse, and then his
steam gin out. Pete, he steps to the
front and says:
"Boys, we'll have to hook on to The
Miners Sad Fate, and pull her
through. Now, then, all sing:
| a miner was away down below,
| And was working so busy-heigh hol
When the fire-damp accumulated,
| And there was an explosion
| And the poor miner was out
| Rageously kiled-heigh hot"
There were seven or eight other
verses, and we hadn't got half through
before the wilder looked up and gave
us a nod, which showed that her heart
was with us.
Well, the eulogy was to come on, but
the divine he seemed sort O ratified.
He began talking about the King OF
Terrors, uncertainty OF life. and the
value of being prepared beforehand,
when Big Pete went over and stopped
him and whispered in his ear. The
divine seemed to object, and he went
on about how Adam sinned, and the
harps of heaven, and angels coming
! down to carry babies off from this sin
iul world. BY and by Pete stops him,
pushes him into chair, and says:
Boys, Uncle George is lying right
here IN this ere twenty dollar coffin.
He never wronged man, woman, or
child. The Lord has took him, and if
he isn't playln harp in heaven at this
very miuit, then L can lick any man
who disputes it,
Here's the widder," he went on;
shes got heart as big as dinner
pail, and nobody kin say word against
her. She can't go to heaven and play
on harp till the Lord directs. Mean
while she's got to live and wear out
clothes. I'm with her for five dollars
down."
"Som II"
"So'm T."
And the words went around and the
money came in until the purse run up
to nigh a hundred dollars. Then we
sung "The Widder's Dream" gazed for
the last time on the face of Uncle
George, and got him in a wagon out
doors in good shape. When we started
for the graveyard the divine skipped
for the depot, seemin' to be all fatten-
ed out, but it was no loss to us.
stAt the grave we fined in singin'
"The Fathers Underground, and as
the coffin was lowered away, Big Pete
sprinkles some earth upon it and says
The airth gin him to us, and the
airth takes her own. Ashes to ashes
and dust to dust, and if l ketch any
body slurrin' his memory therell be an
explosion on the fourth level which
will bust heads and break ribs"
And that's the way we took that job
out of the hands of a regular-built di-
vine and planted Uncle George in ship
shape and proper manner. We wasn't
goin' to have any highfalutin' fam
doodle business over him. He wouldn't
have laid quiet in his grave.-Ne,c
York Sun.
Philadelphia's Richest Man.
A slender. medium-sized old man,
says the Philadelphia Press, walks
slowly down Chestnut street. His
| fooo - l,a