“Now I leave behind me, to those who shall follow, or I much mistake my Prowess in these ripe Days of my Life (she having reached a good ninety-nine), many Mourners of many Races and many Tempers, and as they loved me differently in Life so I would have them plan differently for me in Death. Think then of as many manner of Rites of Interment and ending, burning and cracking as there be ingenuity, only”, she said in that logical Measure that had made her a great Politician all the days of her Hour, “plan differently, for if you burn me first, how shall you lay me out for shriving, and how, if you drop me in Ocean, can you also bind me with Earth? Nay, you must come to the matter with Forethought and no Jealousies, so that I stay not too long in that condition, which left to Nature, is most unseemly, like many of her raw Tricks. Therefore provide a Council, and plan with Fecundity, and bring about as good a Series as the Wits of Women can devise.”
So it was that when she came to die, there were many so hard pressed with lamenting, and some so glut with Vanity, and others so spoiled of Thought, that a wrangling was heard for full forty-eight Hours, the while she lay easily, as if she sensed in them a little old time Custom.
First forty Women shaved their Heads (all but Señorita Fly-About who for no Woman, quick or dead, would alter her Charm) and carried her through the City on a monstrous Catafalque, and then in forty different Heights these Women went down upon their knees in the darkness of the Catholic Church, and then she was sealed in a Tomb for many days, and the Women twittered about the Tomb like Birds about the Border of a Storm: and then they bore her to the Crossroads, and at every Crossway the Bier was laid down. And a Bird came, and in passing, crowed lamentably, though but that instant an Oat had descended into the dark of its Craw, and a little later at another Crossroad a Hare came, and standing upon the Lid, beat thrice with its custom of hind-foot Mating, and yet further on, a Mountain Goat that way going, threw its Beard up, and lamented bitterly from between its even row of Teeth that knew only the Grass going inward and no word over, and a little later, (there were many Forks going hither and thither, for the Spring in the Grass had seen many herds going four ways, and Love making a common pasture for a Season, what with moo and bray and Hoof and Heel stamping for tell tale), a Night-owl came and sat upon one end of the great and ebon Tassels, and said, or so the Parishioners aver, “Oh! God!” as if it were his Heart’s first Need, and still later a Ground thing, not to this day identified, came upward out of the Earth, and stood awhile, and still purblind and lidless, shook its Fur from Throat to Tail in one long, slow Undulation of Misery, and descended again. Now, a Tup, so new with Life that it walked on Waves came and raising its God’s Gift of a Mouth, said “Baaaaa!” And so it was that they hurried on and laid her in the Earth of a little Village, and then they put her low in a great City, and some buried her shallow and some deep, and Women who had not told their Husbands every thing, joined them. And there was veiled Face downcast, and bare Face upturned, and some lamenting sideways and some forward, and some who struck their Hands together, and some who carried them one on one. And they carved her many Tombs, and many sayings, and much Poetry was cast for her, and in the end they put her upon a great Pyre and burned her to the Heart, warming her Urn for her with their Hands, as a good Wine-bibber warms his Cup of Wine. And when they came to the ash that was left of her, all had burned but the Tongue, and this flamed, and would not suffer Ash, and it played about upon the handful that had been she indeed. And seeing this, there was a great Commotion, and the sound of Skirts swirled in haste, and the Patter of much running in feet, but Senorita Fly-About came down upon that Urn first, and beatitude played and flickered upon her Face, and from under her Skirts a slow Smoke issued, though no thing burned, and the Mourners barked about her covetously, and all Night through, it was bruited abroad that the barking continued, like the mournful baying of Hounds in the Hills, though by Dawn there was no sound, And as the day came some hundred Women were seen bent in Prayer. And yet a little later between them in its Urn on high, they took the Ashes and the Fire, and placed it on the Altar in the Temple of Love. There it is said, it flickers to this day, and one may still decipher the Line, beneath its Handles, “Oh ye of little Faith.”
