Mr. Small, a farmer, well to do in ----shire, fell ill of an acute and
dangerous disorder. (By the by, every one was anxious to know if "poor"
Mrs. Small's husband was better.) He died,--Mrs. Small was, of course,
in decent affliction. But the word of pity was always transferred from
the principal sufferer to her, till he was beyond suffering. Then first
it was bestowed on the "poor" corpse, which every one came to visit, and
flattered as looking "pleasant."
Mrs. Small herself, in the first letter of her widowhood, addressed to
an intimate female friend, did not make a more judicious application of
the favourite epithet. To this friend it was her habit to write once
a quarter. We insert three passages; one extracted from each of these
quarterly epistles, which followed in due succession after her sad
bereavement:--
"Dear Nelly,--My brother-in-law has given the direction of the funeral
to a good economical undertaker, by name Peebles. I have not seen him,
and am not like; for he is in too large a way to attend himself, and he
sends his man for orders, and to see all done handsome, but cheap.
"_Poor_ Mr. Peebles's man came here last night, and the funeral
will be to-morrow.
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