its purpose to stimulate and sustain, rose and fell, seemed to come
and go, like the sound of a sullen sea. The gloomy day grew darker
as he spoke; a curtain of cloud underspread the sky and a few drops
of rain fell audibly. It seemed as if all nature were weeping for
John Mortonson.

When the minister had finished his eulogy with prayer a hymn was sung
and the pall-bearers took their places beside the bier. As the last
notes of the hymn died away the widow ran to the coffin, cast herself
upon it and sobbed hysterically. Gradually, however, she yielded to
dissuasion, becoming more composed; and as the minister was in the
act of leading her away her eyes sought the face of the dead beneath
the glass. She threw up her arms and with a shriek fell backward
insensible.

The mourners sprang forward to the coffin, the friends followed, and
as the clock on the mantel solemnly struck three all were staring
down upon the face of John Mortonson, deceased.

They turned away, sick and faint. One man, trying in his terror to
escape the awful sight, stumbled against the coffin so heavily as to
knock away one of its frail supports. The coffin fell to the floor,
the glass was shattered to bits by the concussion.

From the opening crawled John Mortonson's cat, which lazily leapt to
the floor, sat up, tranquilly wiped its crimson muzzle with a
forepaw, then walked with dignity from the room.