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$Unique_ID{bob01506}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Sketches, Old And New
The Widow's Protest}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Twain, Mark}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{
}
$Date{1893}
$Log{}
Title: Sketches, Old And New
Book: The Widow's Protest
Author: Twain, Mark
Date: 1893
The Widow's Protest
One of the saddest things that ever came under my notice (said the
banker's clerk) was there in Corning, during the war. Dan Murphy enlisted as
a private, and fought very bravely. The boys all liked him, and when a wound
by-and-by weakened him down till carrying a musket was too heavy work for him,
they clubbed together and fixed him up as a sutler. He made money then, and
sent it always to his wife to bank for him. She was a washer and ironer, and
knew enough by hard experience to keep money when she got it. She didn't waste
a penny. On the contrary, she began to get miserly as her bank account grew.
She grieved to part with a cent, poor creature, for twice in her hard-working
life she had known what it was to be hungry, cold, friendless, sick, and
without a dollar in the world, and she had a haunting dread of suffering so
again. Well, at last Dan died; and the boys, in testimony of their esteem and
respect for him, telegraphed to Mrs. Murphy to know if she would like to have
him embalmed and sent home; when you know the usual custom was to dump a poor
devil like him into a shallow hole, and then inform his friends what had
become of him. Mrs. Murphy jumped to the conclusion that it would only cost
three or four dollars to embalm her dead husband, and so she telegraphed
"Yes." It was at the "wake" that the bill for embalming arrived and was
presented to the widow.
She uttered a wild sad wail that pierced every heart, and said,
"Sivinty-foive dollars for stooffin' Dan, blister their sowls! Did thim
divils suppose I was goin' to stairt a Museim, that I'd be dalin' in such
expinsive curiassities!"
The banker's clerk said there was not a dry eye in the house.