partickler friends o’ the diseased. That’s why they’re invited here this evenin’; but tomorrow we want all to come — everybody; for he respected everybody, he liked everybody, and so it’s fitten that his funeral orgies sh’d be public.”

And so he went a-mooning on and on, liking to hear himself talk, and every little while he fetched in his funeral orgies again, till the duke he couldn’t stand it no more; so he writes on a little scrap of paper, “Obsequies, you old fool,” and folds it up, and goes to goo-gooing and reaching it over people’s heads to him.

The king he reads it and puts it in his pocket, and says:

“Poor William, afflicted as he is, his heart’s aluz right. Asks me to invite everybody to come to the funeral —