5. V.
A LITTLE DIFFICULTY IN THE WAY.
An enterprising traveling agent for a
well-known Cleveland Tomb Stone Manufactory
lately made a business visit to a
small town in an adjoining county. Hearing,
in the village, that a man in a remote
part of the township had lost his wife, he
thought he would go and see him and offer
him consolation and a gravestone, on his
usual reasonable terms. He started. The
road was a frightful one, but the agent persevered,
and finally arrived at the bereaved
man's house. Bereaved man's hired girl
told the agent that the bereaved man was
splitting fence rails “over in the pastur,
about two milds.” The indefatigable agent
hitched his horse and started for the “pastur.”
After falling into all manner of
mudholes, scratching himself with briers,
and tumbling over decayed logs, the agent
at length found the bereaved man. In a
subdued voice he asked the man if he had
lost his wife. The man said he had. The
agent was very sorry to hear of it, and sympathized
with the man very deeply in his
great afflication; but death, he said, was an
insatiate archer, and shot down all, both of
high and low degree. Informed the man
that “what was his loss was her gain,” and
would be glad to sell him a gravestone
to mark the spot where the beloved one
slept—marble or common stone, as he
chose, at prices defying competition. The
bereaved man said there was “a little difficulty
in the way.” “Haven't you lost
your wife?” inquired the agent. “Why
yes, I have,” said the man, “but no grave
stun ain't necesary: you see the cussed
critter ain't dead.
She's scooted with
another man!” The agent retired.
