And I says, “I guess where Harrison is now, the color of a handkerchief-border hain’t a-goin’ to make much difference to him either way.” And I don’t s’pose it wuz noticed much, for there wuzn’t more’n ten or a dozen folks there when we went in. We went in in Injin file mostly, by Abel’ses request, so’s to make more show. And as a procession we wuz middlin’ long, but ruther thin. The sermon was not so very good as to quality, but abundant as to quantity. It wuz, as nigh as I could calkerlate, about a hour and three-quarters long. Josiah whispered to me along about the last that “we had been there over seven hours, and his legs wuz paralyzed.” And I whispered back that “seven hours would take us into the night, and to stretch his feet out and pinch ’em;” which he did. But it wuz long and tejus. My feet got to sleep twice, and I had hard work to wake ’em up ag’in. The sermon meant to be about Harrison, I s’pose; he did talk a sight about him, and then he kinder branched off onto politics, and then the Inter-State bill; he kinder favored it, I thought. Wall, we all got drippin’ wet a-goin’ home, for Abel insisted on our gettin’ out at the grave, for he had hired some oncommon high singers (high every way, in price and in notes) to sing at the grave. And so we disembarked in the drippin’ rain, on the wet grass, and formed a procession ag’in. And Abel had a long exercise right there in the rain. But the singin’ wuz kinder jerky, and cur’us, and they had got their pay beforehand, so they hurried it through. And one man, the tenor, who wuz dretful afraid of takin’ cold, hurried through his part, and got through first, and started on a run for the carriage. The others stood their grounds till the piece wuz finished, but they put in some dretful cur’us quavers. I believe they had had chills: it sounded like it. [Illustration: “Abel and S. Annie selected one.”] Take it altogether, I don’t believe anybody got much satisfaction out of it, only Abel. S. Annie sp’ilt her dress and bonnet entirely—they wuz wilted all down; and she ordered another suit jest like it before she slept. Wall, the next mornin’ early two men come with plans for monuments. Abel had telegrafted to ’em to come with plans and bid for the job of furnishin’ the monument. And after a good deal of talk on both sides, Abel and S. Annie selected one that wuz very high and p’inted. The men stayed to dinner, and I said to Abel, out to one side,— “Abel, that monument is a-goin’ to cost a sight.” “Wall,” says he, “we can’t raise too high a one. Harrison deserved it all.” Says I, “Won’t that, and all these funeral expenses, take about all the money he left?” “Oh, no,” says he. “He had insured his life for a large amount, and it all goes to his wife and children. He deserves a monument, if a man ever did.”