Before the body was quite cold the mother and the landlady commenced
clearing a table in the dining-room. I looked at this performance
in astonishment because it was now evident that they were going to
prepare a "_lit de parade_" there, close to the tables where our
meals were served. The body was then brought in, dressed in a white
robe adorned with pink, yellow, and sky-blue silk ribbons. Loose
leaves and branches were scattered over the little emaciated body,
care being taken not to conceal any of the fancy silk ribbons. Empty
whiskey and gin bottles were placed around the bier, a candle stuck
in the mouth of each bottle, and then the whole thing was lighted up.

It was now getting dark fast, and as the doors were wide open,
a great crowd was soon attracted by the brilliant display. All the
"400" of the little rubber town seemed to pour in a steady stream into
the dining-room. It was a new experience, even in this hotel where
I had eaten with water up to my knees, to take a meal with a funeral
going on three feet away. We had to partake of our food with the body
close by and the candle smoke blowing in our faces, adding more local
colour to our jerked beef and beans than was desirable. More and more
people came in to pay their respects to the child that hardly any
one had known while it was alive. Through it all the mother sat on
a trunk in a corner peacefully smoking her pipe, evidently proud of
the celebration that was going on in honour of her deceased offspring.

The kitchen boy brought in a large tray with cups of steaming coffee;
biscuits also were carried around to the spectators who sat against
the wall on wooden boxes. The women seemed to get the most enjoyment
out of the mourning; drinking black coffee, smoking their pipes, and
paying little attention to the cause of their being there, only too