"funeral" or "coffin" or "hearse" never passed his lips. He spoke
always of "interments," of "caskets," and "coaches," using terms that
were calculated rather to bring out the majesty and sublimity of
death than to parade its horrors.

To be present at the hotel was in accord with Mr. Gingham's general
conception of his business. No man had ever grasped the true
principles of undertaking more thoroughly than Mr. Gingham. I have
often heard him explain that to associate with the living,
uninteresting though they appear, is the only way to secure the
custom of the dead.

"Get to know people really well while they are alive," said Mr.
Gingham; "be friends with them, close friends and then when they die
you don't need to worry. You'll get the order every time."

So, naturally, as the moment was one of sympathy, it was Mr.
Gingham who spoke first.

"What'll you do, Josh," he said, "if the Commissioners go against
you?"

"Boys," said Mr. Smith, "I don't rightly know. If I have to quit, the
next move is to the city. But I don't reckon that I will have to
quit. I've got an idee that I think's good every time."

"Could you run a hotel in the city?" asked Mullins.

"I could," said Mr. Smith. "I'll tell you. There's big things doin'
in the hotel business right now, big chances if you go into it right.