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Show fiYALEXANDEl? QICKKTTS CnrwtrinUi IftArt hv Thn nhnrfalniMf Iuh. Ho. All rlfrlita rfnvnA As I sat on tho porch talking desultorily desul-torily with tho landlord tho wldo, roomy porch, with tho wobbly, creaky, comfortablo, splint-bottomed rocking-chnlrs, rocking-chnlrs, of tho old tavern, not tho "piazza" "pi-azza" of tho garish now hotel, which the younger generation point to pride-fully pride-fully as stamping with an outward and -rlslblo sign tho village's evolution Into a city I happoned to mention I'vo forgotten exactly how it came Into my mind having Been Gen. Grant's funeral. fun-eral. "Humph I" observed tho landlord, contemptuously. "You oughter'vo seen MoBe Johnson'B funeral if you wanter say you'vo seen a funeral. Eh, fellers?" fel-lers?" An appreciative chuckle circulated among tho rest of tho loungero, and Bpurred mo Into asking, "Why?" '"Cause It was worth seoln'," explained ex-plained tho landlord, scraping vigorously vigor-ously with his jack-knlfo at tho turnip with which ho was refreshing himself. "Whcnovcr any of you out-of-town fellers comos 'round hero braggln' about your gorgeous mortuary pageants, page-ants, liko them Gen. Grant's obsequies you Jest montloned," ho added, after thoughtfully selecting a new point of attack upon tho turnip, "It don't feaso I us anW We Jest nudgo oach othor In an AtBsumi)f way, an' say 'Ho ougJJr'vo sciBkj.tjaev' Johnson's fun-r crniyillt waB plenty of panoramcr for Blmply country fplks llko us." "What was It? How was It romark-ablo?" romark-ablo?" I asked, curiously. "Oh, I dunno as it was anyways remarkable re-markable except out hero In tho country. Mebbe you fellers that live In big cities nro used to thorn," replied tho landlord, cautiously. "Well, let mo hoar about It, and 1 can toll better," I urged. "Thon, to begin at tho boglnnln'," began tho landlord, clearing, reluctantly reluctant-ly apparently, for action by depositing tho turnip, with his knlfo stuck upright up-right In it, on tho porch railing, "It was all on account of an ord'nanco wo'vo got horo provldln that thoro Bha'n't be any parades unless tho mayor may-or gives a permit for It. Last year when tho circus struck town wo had a cross-grained, crabbed old toiler for mayor, an' whon the circus man went to got a permit for his parade ho got turned down. "I want a permit to parade,' says: the circus man. " 'You can't have it,' says tho mrtyorV " 'I'd llko to know why I can't,' says tho circus man. " "Causo circuses aro demorallzln' an' indecent Inventions of tho dovll for to lend tho young nn.'iuuwary onter destruction, de-struction, an consequently I don't approve ap-prove of thorn,' says tho mayor. " 'Nothln' of tho kjnd,' says tho circus cir-cus man. Tll'" you know that mino is a grbkt'lrnUrarahrf Instructin' show that'll bonant'dh'Olitfltt any com-I com-I : -iiotH ' IT il I mi' 1 I y "You can't have It!' says the Mayor." munlty, an' especial any old moth-eaten fossil llko you.' "So thojwo of them had It back an' forth, hotfan' heavy. Tho circus man bcggln', an' tho mayor rcfusln'; tho circus man thrcatenin', an' tho mayor dofyin him; tho circus man plcndln', an' tho mayor slttln' obstinate; tho circus man gettln' madder an' madder, an' the mayor not budgln' nn Inch; tho circus man cussin', and the mayor flnln him soventy-flvo cents per cuss until tho upshot of It all was that the circus man had to leavo without tho permit, but swearin ho'd parado in " 'Wha-at? gaspo the Mayor. splto of all tho mayors an' permits in creation, whllo tho mayorwas vowin' bo, shouldn't, If he had to call out the militia to stop him. "Well, mister circus man enmo down hero an' carried on somethln' awful, worso than tho wildest man from Bor neo you ever seen, an' offerln' every-thin' every-thin' to everybody If they'd only toll him how ho could outwit tho mayor, an' Jest then I had sorto an ldear. So I snys to him, 'Say,' I says, 'Moso Johnson's lyln' dead this minlt, wnitln for tho poor board to bury him, Mobo always boln' a shiftless, thoughtless, no-'count kind of a fellor.' " 'I wish It wns tho mayor,' snaps Mr. Circus. 'What of it?' . '"Well, I says, 'I dunno as Ihoro's any .ord'nance rcgulatln' funerals, or permit got to bo got for tho same. Do I get that contract for fcodln' the animals?' ani-mals?' I says. '"You do' says tho circus man, bis fnco lighting up llko a transparency. 'Set 'em up for tho houso, an' then como and show mo whero Johnson's abodo Is.' "At first the disconsolate wlddcr stood out for a full suit of mournln' dress, shoos, stocking, bonnet, veil, an' all tho fixln's but finally sho compromised compro-mised on a crapo veil an a pass to tho show an a seat on tho band-wagon. "Accordln', right on tho tlmo advertised, adver-tised, along down tho streot parft tho mayor's ofllco came a hearso, with Johnson roposin peacefully in it, an' tho circus follerln' In all Its glory, with crowlln' an' carryin' on, each in his tho red an gold glitlerln', nn' tho olo-phnnts olo-phnnts trumpetln', an' tho lions ronrln', nn tho hyenas laughln. nn' tho rest of tho monagerio howlin' an' gruntln' an' particular style, an tho band playin' sometimes a funeral march to Jig tlmo an' sometimes 'A Hot Tlmo in tho Old Town' to funeral march tlmo, an' tho horses prnncln', an' tho ladlos smlrkln', an' tho chariots rumblln', an' tho clowns grinnln', an tho men smll-In', smll-In', an' tho Btoam plannor tootlln' hymn tunes with variations, an' tho circus mnn a-straddlln' n dancln' piebald pie-bald stallion, lookln' proud an' soreno an' happy. "My socks, wasn't It tho mayor's turn to bo mad! Ho came rusbln' out of his ofllco llko a crazy man on tho loose, an' cntchln' hold ot tho bridles ot tho horses pullln' tho hearso, shoved thorn right spang back on tholr haunches. " 'What's tho mcanln' of this here? shouted tho circus mnn, rldln' up, pro-tondln' pro-tondln' to ho terribly shocked. 'What do you mean by Intorforln' in this outrageous out-rageous way with mv old friend Mr. J Johnson'B funeral, you old grave-robber you?' " 'Whn-at?' gasps tho mayor. "'I'll havo you know that we're) por-formln por-formln our sad duty of nttondln our lato lamented friend's romaln to their last rcstln' place, you Irrovoront old body snatchcr. Ain't wo, Mra, Johnson?' John-son?' says tho circus man, ploasant as a basket of chips. " 'Yes, you be," chirps tho forlorn wlddcr, from whero sho was muncbln' peanuts an' popcorn besides tho bass-drum bass-drum In tho band-wagon. "Well, sir, tho mayor was pig-headed about somo things, but ho realized in-stantcr in-stantcr that ho didn't havo no authority authori-ty to stop n funeral In full career. So nil ho cduld do was grind his tcoth, an' froth conslderablo at tho mouth, an hopo somothin'd turn up that'd givo him a chance at that circus man whllo that parado followed Johnson nil ovor town. An' thoy didn't shirk Johnson none, clthor, but finally wont ahead an' planted him to tho tuno of 'Whero Wan Moses Whon tho Light Went Outf Thorp was tho biggest crowd at that funbrifi'tiiat ever attended such a melancholy' ovent in this town. "An' thnt's' why," concludod tha landlord, 'resuming his knlfo and turnip, tur-nip, "wo'ro claimin' that tho last sad rl,tes, paid- to Moso Johnson's ashos woro. somethln' now nn' unique in tho way of obsequies, at least in this here neighborhood." |