As to his being unapproachable, I believe that the undertaker is misunderstood. It is true that he does not thrust himself forward in a pretentious manner--as do some people of inferior breeding--nor has he ever been known to meet a patron half way, but just let one of your friends hint that you need his services and see how quickly he will put in an appearance. And he will not pay you unnecessarily prolonged visits either, and should you be compelled to entertain him for a time, he is a quite inexpensive guest--he always furnishes his own board. He is even likely to be offended if you force your hospitality upon him. One of my friends once made this mistake, and the undertaker gave him a great laying out, I assure you. We mustn’t be too hard upon the undertaker, then, even though he is a trifle stiff and conventional in his ways. His work furnishes him with subjects for contemplation which are so serious, and of such monumental importance, that it is small wonder he should acquire a somewhat funereal and solemn demeanor. I have often marveled at the equability of temper displayed by the undertaker. I never heard of his swearing at, or using rough language to his patrons. He has such a soothing way with him, too; whenever he notices that his patron is inclined to get a little hotheaded he does everything in his power to allay his warmth, knowing full well that the man will get cooled down after a while. And his judgment is rarely at fault--the other fellow always does cool down. You see, it’s a poor quarrel that won’t keep--and the undertaker’s differences with his patrons are no exception to the rule. It has always been a source of wonderment to me, that any one could accuse the undertaker of being heartless and unfeeling. Why, I have known undertakers who were the acme of tender susceptibility and delicacy of feeling. One mortuary gentleman whom I knew, had such a sympathetic vein in his composition that he used to mix lamp black with his embalming fluid. So considerate and thoughtful of him, was it not? And shall we say of such men, “They are heartless and unfeeling?” Never! And what shall we say of the “funeral director” who had buried six husbands for a lady, and who, knowing how sensitive she was upon the subject, upholstered her own mortuary receptacle with white satin marked with six delicate bands of heliotrope? Could any human being display a finer intuitive perception of the eternal fitness of things? No, the undertaker is not unsympathetic, and he is delicacy personified.