The funeral passed off in a very pleasant manner,
nothing occurring to mar the harmony of the occasion.
By a happy thought of Reginald's mother
the wives walked to the grave twenty a-breast,
which rendered that part of the ceremony thoroughly
impartial.

That night the twenty wives, with heavy hearts,

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

sought their twenty respective couches. But no
Reginald occupied those twenty respective couches—
Reginald would nevermore linger all night in
blissful repose in those twenty respective couches—
Reginald's head would nevermore press the twenty
respective pillows of those twenty respective couches—
never, nevermore!

In another house, not many leagues from the
House of Mourning, a gray-haired woman was weeping
passionately. “He died,” she cried, “he died
without sigerfyin', in any respect, where them mules
went to!”