Can Such Things Be? eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 179 pages of information about Can Such Things Be?.

As the hour of two approached the friends began to arrive and after offering such consolation to the stricken relatives as the proprieties of the occasion required, solemnly seated themselves about the room with an augmented consciousness of their importance in the scheme funereal.  Then the minister came, and in that overshadowing presence the lesser lights went into eclipse.  His entrance was followed by that of the widow, whose lamentations filled the room.  She approached the casket and after leaning her face against the cold glass for a moment was gently led to a seat near her daughter.  Mournfully and low the man of God began his eulogy of the dead, and his doleful voice, mingled with the sobbing which it was 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.

THE REALM OF THE UNREAL

For a part of the distance between Auburn and Newcastle the road—­ first on one side of a creek and then on the other—­occupies the whole bottom of the ravine, being partly cut out of the steep hillside, and partly built up with bowlders removed from the creek-bed by the miners.  The hills are wooded, the course of the ravine is sinuous.  In a dark night careful driving is required in order not to go off into the water.  The night that I have in memory was dark, the creek a torrent, swollen by a recent storm.  I had driven up from Newcastle and was within about a mile of Auburn in the darkest and narrowest part of the ravine, looking intently ahead of my horse for the roadway.  Suddenly I saw a man almost under the animal’s nose, and reined in with a jerk that came near setting the creature upon its haunches.

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Can Such Things Be? from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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