Lyddy
Pettigrove's dead, 'n' I hope she's in heaven, and all I can say is,
that she'll be dretful busy up there ondoin' all she done down here. You
say there was a good many out?"
"Yes; we ain't hed so many out for years, so Susanna Rideout says, and
she'd ought to know, for she ain't missed a fun'ral sence she was nine
years old, and she's eighty-one, come Thanksgivin', ef she holds out
that long. She says fun'rals is 'bout the only recreation she has, 'n'
she doos git a heap o' satisfaction out of 'em, 'n' no mistake. She'll
go early, afore any o' the comp'ny assembles. She'll say her clock must
'a' ben fast, 'n' then they'll ask her to set down 'n' make herself to
home. Then she'll choose her seat accordin' to the way the house is
planned. She won't git too fur from the remains, because she'll want to
see how the fam'ly appear when they take their last look, but she'll
want to git opposite a door, where she can look into the other rooms 'n'
see whether they shed any tears when the minister begins his remarks.
She allers takes a little gum camphire in her pocket, so't if anybody
faints away durin' the long prayer, she's right on hand. Bein' near the
door, she can hear all the minister says, 'n' how the order o' the
mourners is called, 'n' ef she ain't too fur from the front winders she
can hev a good view of the bearers and the mourners as they get into the
kerridges. There's a sight in knowin' how to manage at a fun'ral; it
takes faculty, same as anything else.
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