Tract

    I will teach you my townspeople

    how to perform a funeral

    for you have it over a troop

    of artists

    unless one should scour¹ the world

    you have the ground sense necessary.

    See！ the hearse leads.

    I begin with a design for a hearse.

    For Christ's sake not black

    nor white either——and not polished！

    Let it be weathered——like a farm wagon²

    with gilt³ wheels （this could be

    applied⁴ fresh at small expense）

    or no wheels at all：

    a rough dray to drag over the ground.

    Knock the glass out！

    My God——glass， my townspeople！

    For what purpose？ Is it for the dead

    to look out or for us to see

    how well he is housed or to see

    the flowers or the lack of them

    or what？

    To keep the rain and snow from him？

    He will have a heavier rain soon：

    pebbles⁵ and dirt and what not.

    Let there be no glass

    and no upholstery， phew！

    and no little brass⁶ rollers

    and small easy wheels on the bottom

    my townspeople what are you thinking of？

    A rough plain hearse then

    with gilt wheels and no top at all.

    On this the coffin⁷ lies

    by its own weight.

    No wreaths please

    especially no hot house flowers.

    Some common memento⁸ is better，

    something he prized and is known by：

    his old clothes——a few books perhaps

    God knows what！ You realize

    how we are about these things

    my townspeople

    something will be found——anything

    even flowers if he had come to that.

    So much for the hearse.

    For heaven's sake though see to the driver！

    Take off the silk hat！ In fact

    that's no place at all for him

    up there unceremoniously

    dragging our friend out to his own dignity！

    Bring him down——bring him down！

    Low and inconspicuous！ I'd not have him ride

    on the wagon at all——damn him

    the undertaker's understrapper！

    Let him hold the reins⁹

    and walk at the side

    and inconspicuously too！

    Then briefly¹⁰ as to yourselves：

    Walk behind——as they do in France，

    seventh class， or if you ride

    Hell take curtains！ Go with some show

    of inconvenience； sit openly

    to the weather as to grief.

    Or do you think you can shut grief in？

    What——from us？ We who have perhaps

    nothing to lose？ Share with us

    share with us——it will be money

    in your pockets.

    Go now

    I think you are ready.