"Now you shut up, Bert," Mary broke in. "You don't talk about
buryin's at weddings. You oughta be ashamed of yourself."

"Whoa, Mary! Back up! I said what I said because I meant it. I
ain't thinkin' what Mary thinks. What I was thinkin'. . . . Let me
tell you what I was thinkin'. I said buryin' association, didn't
I? Well, it was not with the idea of castin' gloom over this
merry gatherin'. Far be it. . . ."

He was so evidently seeking a way out of his predicament, that
Mary tossed her head triumphantly. This acted as a spur to his
reeling wits.

"Let me tell you why," he went on. "Because, Bill, you got such
an all-fired pretty wife, that's why. All the fellows is crazy
over her, an' when they get to runnin' after her, what'll you be
doin'? You'll be gettin' busy. And then won't you need a buryin'
association to bury 'em? I just guess yes. That was the
compliment to your good taste in skirts I was tryin' to come
across with when Mary butted in."

His glittering eyes rested for a moment in bantering triumph on
Mary.

"Who says I'm squiffed? Me? Not on your life. I'm seein' all
things in a clear white light. An' I see Bill there, my old
friend Bill. An' I don't see two Bills. I see only one. Bill was
never two-faced in his life. Bill, old man, when I look at you
there in the married harness, I'm sorry--" He ceased abruptly and