The Holt County Sentinel

LOVING THE DEAD
An Undertaker's Weird Story About a
Handsome Young Lady.

A PLEASANT BUSINESS.
Abandoning a
Living Sweet-
heart For a Pretty Dead
Stranger.

BY LEIGH IRVINE.

San Francisco, Aug. 31, 1888.-One
of the oldest undertakers in this city,
formerly a member of the pioneer firm
of Cowen, Porter & Co., recently told
me that he would not exchange occu-
pation with any
man in California.
Said he:

"I tell you there is a singular fasci
nation in ministering to the wants of
the dead, in placing over them garlands
of flowers, nicely arranging their white
faces, and putting their pale bodies in
the last casket."

The old veteran went on portraying
the pleasures of his pursuit, and as he
gave the details of his weird vocation he
grew into an ecstasy not unlike the re-
veries of an opium eater. Continuing,
the jolly undertaker said:

"Experience has taught me that
familiarity with the dead takes the
sting from the grave. My business
puts death in a less terrifying light than
the pictures of the imagination draw
where the actual is seldom witnessed.
I have put so many in their last homes
that I no longer look upon death with
the old fear. I agree with the man
who said, 'Tired of the heat and glam-
our of the day we hear with joy the
rustling garments of the night.' Why,
my boy, I look upon every new face
that comes into my quiet sleeping apart-
ments over there as one more lucky
traveler who has reached at last his
journey's end"

"Doesn't it pain you," I asked.
when the corpse of a life-long friend
chances to come to your receiving par-
lors?"

"O, my boy. I see that you do not
understand what I have been telling
you. Well, it does not surprise me.
for nobody but an undertaker can have
any proper idea of an undertaker's
pleasures. Of course I do not like to
have my friends suffer, nor do I enjoy
having them die. Death of good friends
makes the world lonely and makes
tomb-stones out of life-long companions,
but when a friend is dead it pleases me
very much to give him every attention.
He becomes my guest, and it pains me
if anything happens to make his visit
unpleasant, or if any of my assistants
neglect him. There is after all a quiet
pleasure in knowing that your best
friends do not have to die again, that
aching hearts are at rest in the ever-
lasting sleep."

"Do you ever have any favorites
among the dead. I mean among those
you did not know during life?"

"Very often, indeed. I have had peo
ple come here and I felt from the start,
from the very first glance, that I would
have them for their winning ways."

"Look here," said I, "you will drive
me crazy if you go on talking about the
winning ways of the dead. What do you
mean?"

"Well. sir. I mean that I like modest
people, with frank countenances, wheth-
er in life or in death. Some corpses
have mean countenances. I would have
declined an introduction in life, so I
can not be blamed if I do not cultivate
their acquaintance in death. Some
seem to stare at me, and others look
like sneaks. My boy, a dead man's
face is a good photograph of what he
was in life. No trick of an assumed ex-
pression or face of the dead can deceive
the eye of an old observer

"There are lovely men and women
who come here, and when they leave
we all miss them and we feel lonely. I
gives me great pleasure to pin a little
bouquet upon their garments.-or to ad
just their heads upon their pillows.
They often really need these little at
tentions. and they seem pleased when
we are kind to them. Of course they
can not speak, but there is golden elo-
quence in their silence. Different posi-
tions of their quiet faces give a language
to them.and a slight change in attitudes
makes the contour and whole effect dif-
ferent.

"Let me tell you about a young lady
who used to assist me when I lived in
the east. She made handsome bouquets
and garlands and floral tributes during
her leisure, but her main occupation
was to keep the entry books.

"Well, sir. that girl always had much
good philosophy on the subject of
death. She liked to read about the old
Greeks who dressed their dead in
white. sang odes to immortality, and
placed floral decorations on their
tombs.

"I. often noticed that she lingered
among the caskets in the parlors after
the corpses were prepared and nicely
clothed. I supposed that she was simply
studying the business, perhaps looking
into the art of embalming. or trying to
learn how to give the dead an artistic
face or setting.

"One day her affianced-for she was
pretty and a favorite-came in to chat
with her a few moments. He was a
bright young lawyer, but he did not
object that she was a working girl, and
they were to be married in the fall. It
was a delightful June day, and as he
left she pinned a beautiful bouquet on
the lappel of his coat. Not noticing
my presence he lightly kissed her upon
the brow, and departed. This seemed
to worry her a little, and she blushed
after he had gone. The next day when
he called I thought I heard a few words
dicating that there had been a slight
lovers' quarrel, and her eyes were moist
when he left.

In a few days one of the handsomest
young men I ever saw was brought in-
to our parlors. He was unknown, but
from papers found on his person it was
ascertained that his parents lived in
London. He had been murdered on a
lonely road. As he bled to death from
a wound in his arm of course you know
he corpse was very pale.

"Two efficient servants helped me to
prepare the corpse for the casket. We
dressed him nicely, combed his beauti-
ful hair, arranged his very handsome
mustache, gave his cheeks a few touches
of flesh color with the blender and noti-
ced the young lady assistant to have a
floral tribute made for the Elks. who
were to manage his funeral.

I then went home to dinner and
was gone for some hours
When I re-
turned to the receiving parlors Miss
Blanche was still working over the
face She made a handsome wreath
and placed it over his brow. Then she
fairly raved over his beauty. She said.
'Do you know, I could marry a fellow
as pretty as he is? Of course I thought
very little of it, although the remark
was queer.

"When I returned in fifteen minutes
Miss Blanche was still there, and she
seemed to be talking to him. It was
with some delay that she heeded my
request to attend to other work demand-
ing her attention. The next day it was
the same, and she seemed in love with
the handsome fellow's features.

"Towards evening the Elks and their
band of trained musicians came on their
sad errand to bury the stranger Elk.
The oboes were sobbing, the soft tu-
neral dirge rose like a dream. and we all
felt sad. Will God believe me when I
tell you that my pretty flower girl kiss-
ed that cold face of the stranger, and
burst into tears so that we could not
calm her? The corpse was removed. I
supposed that she felt for him as a sis-
ter. for he was away from his parents
The Atlantic ocean stretched between
him and his old home while the ocean
of eternity broke into foaming surf by
his cold brow and curly locks. Well,
that was twenty-five years ago, and
Miss Blanche was then about eighteen
or twenty years old

"And where is she now," I asked.

"Well." said he. ' I saw her when I
was back home two years ago. She
looks well and hearty, and she is really
handsome yet, although her hair is a
little gray. She told me she had been
married many years, and then she
smiled when she addressed her bus-
band. She called him her faithful dar-
ling.' But the husband she was ad-
dressing was buried by the Elks the
day I told you twenty five years ago.

"They treat her well there at the asy-
lum, and a gentle attendant led her
away when I sorrowfully said 'Good
bye' to the flower girl of what seems
but yesterday. She is in gentle hands
for the home of the unfortunate insane."