August 26th. [1838]
A funeral last evening, nearly at sunset, a coffin of a boy about ten years old laid on a one-horse waggon among some straw, two or three barouches and waggons following. As the funeral passed through the village street, a few men formed a short procession in front of the coffin, among whom were Orrin S---- and I. The burial-ground (there are two in the town) is on the sides and summit of a round hill, which is planted with cypress and other trees, among which the white marble gravestones show pleasantly. The grave was dug on the steep slope of a hill; and the grave-digger was waiting there, and two or three other shirt-sleeved yeomen, leaning against the trees.
Orrin S---- , a wanton and mirth-making middleaged man, who would not seem to have much domestic feeling, took a chief part on the occcasion, assisting in taking the coffin from the waggon, and in lowering it into the grave. There being some superfluous earth at the bottom of the grave, the coffin was drawn up again, after being once buried, and the obstacle removed with a hoe; then it was lowered again for the last time. While this was going on, the father and mother stood weeping at the upper end of the grave, at the head of the little procession, the mother sobbing with stifled violence, and peeping forth to discover why the coffin was drawn up again. It being fitted in its place, Orrin S---- strewed some straw upon it, this being the custom here, because "the clods on the coffin-lid have an ugly sound." Then the Baptist minister, having first whispered to the father, removed his hat, the spectators all doing the same, and thanked them "in the name of these mourners, for this last act of kindness to them."
In all these rites Orrin S---- bore the chief part with real feeling and sadly decorous demeanour. After the funeral I took a walk on the Williamstown road, towards the west. There had been a heavy shower in the afternoon, and clouds were brilliant all over the sky, around Graylock and everywhere else. Those over the hills of the west were the most splendid in purple and gold, and, there being a haze, it added immensely to their majesty and dusky magnificence.
This morning I walked a little way along the mountain road, and stood awhile in the shadow of some oak and chestnut trees, it being a warm, bright, sunshiny morning. The shades lay long from trees and other objects, as at sunset, but how different this cheerful and light radiance from the mild repose of sunset! Locusts, crickets, and other insects were making music. Cattle were feeding briskly, with morning appetites. The wakeful voices of children were heard in a neighbouring hollow. The dew damped the road, and formed many-coloured drops in the grass. In short, the world was not weary with a long, sultry day, but in a fresh, recruited state, fit to carry it through such a day.
A rough-looking, sunburnt, soiled-shirted, odd, middle-aged little man came to the house a day or two ago, seeking work. He had come from Ohio, and was returning to his native place, somewhere in New England, stopping occasionally to earn money to pay his way. There was something rather ludicrous in his physiognomy and aspect. He was very free to talk with all and sundry. He made a long eulogy on his dog Tiger, yesterday, insisting on his good moral character, his not being quarrelsome, his docility, and all other excellent qualities that a huge, strong, fierce mastiff could have. Tiger is the bully of the village, and keeps all the other dogs in awe. His aspect is very spirited, trotting massively along, with his tail elevated and his head likewise. "When he sees a dog that s anything near his size, he s apt to growl a little," Tiger had the marks of a battle on him, "yet he's a good dog."
A funeral last evening, nearly at sunset, a coffin of a boy about ten years old laid on a one-horse waggon among some straw, two or three barouches and waggons following. As the funeral passed through the village street, a few men formed a short procession in front of the coffin, among whom were Orrin S---- and I. The burial-ground (there are two in the town) is on the sides and summit of a round hill, which is planted with cypress and other trees, among which the white marble gravestones show pleasantly. The grave was dug on the steep slope of a hill; and the grave-digger was waiting there, and two or three other shirt-sleeved yeomen, leaning against the trees.
Orrin S---- , a wanton and mirth-making middleaged man, who would not seem to have much domestic feeling, took a chief part on the occcasion, assisting in taking the coffin from the waggon, and in lowering it into the grave. There being some superfluous earth at the bottom of the grave, the coffin was drawn up again, after being once buried, and the obstacle removed with a hoe; then it was lowered again for the last time. While this was going on, the father and mother stood weeping at the upper end of the grave, at the head of the little procession, the mother sobbing with stifled violence, and peeping forth to discover why the coffin was drawn up again. It being fitted in its place, Orrin S---- strewed some straw upon it, this being the custom here, because "the clods on the coffin-lid have an ugly sound." Then the Baptist minister, having first whispered to the father, removed his hat, the spectators all doing the same, and thanked them "in the name of these mourners, for this last act of kindness to them."
In all these rites Orrin S---- bore the chief part with real feeling and sadly decorous demeanour. After the funeral I took a walk on the Williamstown road, towards the west. There had been a heavy shower in the afternoon, and clouds were brilliant all over the sky, around Graylock and everywhere else. Those over the hills of the west were the most splendid in purple and gold, and, there being a haze, it added immensely to their majesty and dusky magnificence.
This morning I walked a little way along the mountain road, and stood awhile in the shadow of some oak and chestnut trees, it being a warm, bright, sunshiny morning. The shades lay long from trees and other objects, as at sunset, but how different this cheerful and light radiance from the mild repose of sunset! Locusts, crickets, and other insects were making music. Cattle were feeding briskly, with morning appetites. The wakeful voices of children were heard in a neighbouring hollow. The dew damped the road, and formed many-coloured drops in the grass. In short, the world was not weary with a long, sultry day, but in a fresh, recruited state, fit to carry it through such a day.
A rough-looking, sunburnt, soiled-shirted, odd, middle-aged little man came to the house a day or two ago, seeking work. He had come from Ohio, and was returning to his native place, somewhere in New England, stopping occasionally to earn money to pay his way. There was something rather ludicrous in his physiognomy and aspect. He was very free to talk with all and sundry. He made a long eulogy on his dog Tiger, yesterday, insisting on his good moral character, his not being quarrelsome, his docility, and all other excellent qualities that a huge, strong, fierce mastiff could have. Tiger is the bully of the village, and keeps all the other dogs in awe. His aspect is very spirited, trotting massively along, with his tail elevated and his head likewise. "When he sees a dog that s anything near his size, he s apt to growl a little," Tiger had the marks of a battle on him, "yet he's a good dog."
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