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railing and pull a long face and read along down till he came to that；
and then he would chuckle to himself and walk off； looking satisfied and
comfortable。 So I scratched it off to get rid of those fools。 But a
dead man always takes a deal of pride in his monument。 Yonder goes half
a dozen of the Jarvises now； with the family monument along。 And
Smithers and some hired specters went by with his awhile ago。 Hello；
Higgins； good…by； old friend！ That's Meredith Higginsdied in '44
belongs to our set in the cemeteryfine old familygreat…grand mother
was an InjunI am on the most familiar terms with him he didn't hear me
was the reason he didn't answer me。 And I am sorry； too； because I would
have liked to introduce you。 You would admire him。 He is the most
disjointed； sway…backed； and generally distorted old skeleton you ever
saw； but he is full of fun。 When he laughs it sounds like rasping two
stones together； and he always starts it off with a cheery screech like
raking a nail across a window…pane。 Hey； Jones！ That is old Columbus
Jonesshroud cost four hundred dollars entire trousseau； including
monument； twenty…seven hundred。 This was in the spring of '26。 It was
enormous style for those days。 Dead people came all the way from the
Alleghanies to see his thingsthe party that occupied the grave next to
mine remembers it well。 Now do you see that individual going along with
a piece of a head…board under his arm； one leg…bone below his knee gone；
and not a thing in the world on？ That is Barstow Dalhousie； and next to
Columbus Jones he was the most sumptuously outfitted person that ever
entered our cemetery。 We are all leaving。 We cannot tolerate the
treatment we are receiving at the hands of our descendants。 They open
new cemeteries； but they leave us to our ignominy。 They mend the
streets； but they never mend anything that is about us or belongs to us。
Look at that coffin of mineyet I tell you in its day it was a piece of
furniture that would have attracted attention in any drawing…room in this
city。 You may have it if you want itI can't afford to repair it。
Put a new bottom in her； and part of a new top； and a bit of fresh lining
along the left side； and you'll find her about as comfortable as any
receptacle of her species you ever tried。 No thanks no； don't mention it
you have been civil to me； and I would give you all the property I have
got before I would seem ungrateful。 Now this winding…sheet is a kind of
a sweet thing in its way； if you would like to No？ Well； just as you
say； but I wished to be fair and liberal there's nothing mean about me。
Good…by； friend； I must be going。 I may have a good way to go to…night
don't know。 I only know one thing for certain； and that is that I am
on the emigrant trail now； and I'll never sleep in that crazy old
cemetery again。 I will travel till I fiend respectable quarters； if I
have to hoof it to New Jersey。 All the boys are going。 It was decided
in public conclave； last night； to emigrate； and by the time the sun
rises there won't be a bone left in our old habitations。 Such cemeteries
may suit my surviving friends； but they do not suit the remains that have
the honor to make these remarks。 My opinion is the general opinion。
If you doubt it； go and see how the departing ghosts upset things before
they started。 They were almost riotous in their demonstrations of
distaste。 Hello； here are some of the Bledsoes； and if you will give me
a lift with this tombstone I guess I will join company and jog along with
themmighty respectable old family； the Bledsoes； and used to always
come out in six…horse hearses and all that sort of thing fifty years ago
when I walked these streets in daylight。 Good…by； friend。〃
And with his gravestone on his shoulder he joined the grisly procession；
dragging his damaged coffin after him； for notwithstanding he pressed it
upon me so earnestly； I utterly refused his hospitality。 I suppose that
for as much as two hours these sad outcasts went clacking by； laden with
their dismal effects； and all that time I sat pitying them。 One or two
of the youngest and least dilapidated among them inquired about midnight
trains on the railways； but the rest seemed unacquainted with that mode
of travel； and merely asked about common public roads to various towns
and cities； some of which are not on the map now；； and vanished from it
and from the earth as much as thirty years ago； and some few of them
never had existed anywhere but on maps； and private ones in real…estate
agencies at that。 And they asked about the condition of the cemeteries
in these towns and cities； and about the reputation the citizens bore as
to reverence for the dead。
This whole matter interested me deeply； and likewise compelled my
sympathy for these homeless ones。 And it all seeming real； and I not
knowing it was a dream； I mentioned to one shrouded wanderer an idea that
had entered my head to publish an account of this curious and very
sorrowful exodus； but said also that I could not describe it truthfully；
and just as it occurred； without seeming to trifle with a grave subject
and exhibit an irreverence for the dead that would shock and distress
their surviving friends。 But this bland and stately remnant of a former
citizen leaned him far over my gate and whispered in my ear； and said：
〃Do not let that disturb you。 The community that can stand such
graveyards as those we are emigrating from can stand anything a body can
say about the neglected and forsaken dead that lie in them。〃
At that very moment a cock crowed； and the weird procession vanished and
left not a shred or a bone behind。 I awoke； and found myself lying with
my head out of the bed and 〃sagging〃 downward considerablya position
favorable to dreaming dreams with morals in them； maybe； but not poetry。
NOTE。The reader is assured that if the cemeteries in his town are kept
in good order； this Dream is not leveled at his town at all； but is
leveled particularly and venomously at the next town。
A TRUE STORY
REPEATED WORD FOR WORD AS I HEARD IT ＇Written about 1876＇
It was summer…time； and twilight。 We were sitting on the porch of the
farmhouse； on the summit of the hill； and 〃Aunt Rachel〃 was sitting
respectfully below our level； on the steps…for she was our Servant； and
colored。 She was of mighty frame and stature； she was sixty years old；
but her eye was undimmed and her strength unabated。 She was a cheerful；
hearty soul； and it was no more trouble for her to laugh than it is for a
bird to sing。 She was under fire now； as usual when the day was done。
That is to say； she was being chaffed without mercy； and was enjoying it。
She would let off peal after of laughter； and then sit with her face in
her hands and shake with throes of enjoyment which she could no longer
get breath enough to express。 It such a moment as this a thought
occurred to me； and I said：
〃Aunt Rachel； how is it that you've lived sixty years and never had any
trouble？〃
She stopped quaking。 She paused； and there was moment of silence。 She
turned her face over her shoulder toward me； and said； without even a
smile