fulfilled-his body was at rest, and his spirit was free to travel. “Call no man
happy until he rests in his grave,” said Solon, and here his words proved
true again.
Every corpse is a sphinx of immortality. The sphinx in this black casket
that confronts us could say no more than the living man had written two
days before:
“Stern Death, your silence has aroused my fears.
Shall not my soul up Jacob's ladder pass,
Or shall your stone weight me throughout the years,
And I rise only in the graveyard grass?
“Our deepest grief escapes the world's sad eye!
You who are lonely to the very last,
A heavier burden on your heart must lie
Than all the earth upon your coffin cast!”
Two figures moved about the room. We know them both. Those two who
bent over the dead man were Dame Care and Fortune's minion.
“Now,” said Care, “you can see what happiness your galoshes have
brought mankind.”
“They have at least brought everlasting rest to him who here lies
sleeping,” said Fortune's minion.
“Oh, no!” said Care. “He went of his own free will. He was not called
away. His spiritual power was not strong enough to undertake the glorious
tasks for which he is destined. I shall do him a favor.”
She took the galoshes from his feet. Then the sleep of death was ended,
and the student awakened to life again. Care vanished, and she took the
galoshes along with her, for she probably regarded them as her own
property.
