custom of honouring the departed, and committing their bodies to the
earth with care and respect, was carried, in our old-fashioned
neighbourhood, to a point at which what began in reverence ended in
what was barely decent, and what was meant to be most melancholy became
absolutely comical. But a sense of the congruous and the incongruous was
not cultivated amongst us, whereas solid value (in size, quantity and
expense) was perhaps over-estimated. So our furniture, our festivities,
and our funerals bore witness.

No one had ever seen the old miser's furniture, and he gave no
festivities; but he made up for it in his funeral.

Children, like other uneducated classes, enjoy domestic details, and
going over the ins and outs of other people's affairs behind their
backs; especially when the interest is heightened by a touch of gloom,
or perfected by the addition of some personal importance in the matter.
Jem and I were always fond of funerals, but this funeral, and the fuss
that it made in the parish, we were never likely to forget.

Even our own household was so demoralized by the grim gossip of the
occasion that Jem and I were accused of being unable to amuse ourselves,
and of listening to our elders. It was perhaps fortunate for us that a
favourite puppy died the day before the funeral, and gave us the
opportunity of burying him.

"As if our whole vocation
Were endless imitation----"

Jem and I had already laid our gardens waste, and built a rude wall of
broken bricks round them to make a churchyard; and I can clearly