At the wake, the bereaved husband displayed all the evidences of frantic grief. He cried aloud heart-rendingly, and tore his hair. The other mourners had to restrain him from leaping into the open coffin.
The next day, a friend who had been at the wake encountered the widower on the street and spoke sympathetically of the great woe displayed by the man.
“Did you go to the cemetery for the burying?” the stricken husband inquired anxiously, and when he was answered in the negative, continued proudly: “It’s a pity ye weren’t there. Ye ought to have seen the way I cut up.”
* * *
The old woman in indigent circumstances was explaining to a visitor, who found her at breakfast, a long category of trials and tribulations.
“And,” she concluded, “this very morning, I woke up at four o’clock, and cried and cried till breakfast time, and as soon as I finish my tea I’ll begin again, and probably keep it up all day.”