 and flickering, gives a dying glare and goes out in the
socket. And then he arises, cramped and stiff, and creeps trembling
to bed as the cocks are crowing for midnight. But the newly-made heir
cannot sleep. Haunting images visit him, as the Furies surrounded
Orestes. At length he rises and seeks the repository of his valuables.
He takes out the will, and though he has known it, every word by heart,
for a whole generation's lifetime, he reads it mechanically over.
How strange the lines look, and the name of _Zophar Tupper_, written
with the old magisterial flourish! Here, too, are the signatures of
the witnesses, and he finds himself wondering why John never married
Molly after all, and, even now, does not dream that he himself was the
obstacle, by his disagreeable persistency in living; for our mortality
is the last and severest lesson that we learn in life.

Philo wonders if it is not almost daylight, and looks out at the east
window for the first streak of dawn; reflects that he must start early,
for it is nine miles to the town, and his old horse is not over-active.
He will have to dress up, too, for the funeral. How strange! To pass
away the time, he begins to get out his clothes and lay them ready.
From the depths of a great red chest he brings up a pair of good, new
pantaloons, that he has not worn for ten years, and then a coat to
match, and a fine shirt with a ruffled bosom, that Aunt Betsy made for
him while she was still young enough to do such things. And, lastly, he
bethinks himself of a pair of black linen gloves that he bought on the
occasion of the good woman's funeral, and from the darkest corner of
the chest he fishes them up. A little dingy and rotten they are, to be
sure, but still in wonderful preservation, though they give way in two
or three spots when he puts them carefully on.

In these little occupations he wears away the hours till the darkness
begins to grow gray, and as soon as he can see sufficiently he goes to
the pasture and leads his astonished old horse to the door. Then comes
the terrible
and flickering, gives a dying glare and goes out in the 
 socket. And then he arise, cramp and stiff, and creeps trembling 
 to layer as the cocks are crowing for midnight. But the newly - have heir 
 cannot sleep. Haunting effigy visit him, as the Furies surrounded 
 Orestes. At distance he rises and seeks the depository of his valuables. 
 He takes out the will, and though he has known it, every word by heart, 
 for a whole coevals's lifetime, he reads it mechanically over. 
 How foreign the lines look, and the name of _ Zophar Tupper _, write 
 with the honest-to-god magisterial flourish! Here, besides, are the signatures of 
 the witnesses, and he finds himself wonder why John never married 
 Molly after all, and, even now, does not dream that he himself was the 
 obstacle, by his disagreeable persistency in living; for our mortality 
 is the last and severest lesson that we learn in life. 

 Philo wonders if it is not almost daylight, and looks out at the east 
 window for the inaugural streak of dawn; reflects that he must begin early on, 
 for it is nine mile to the town, and his old knight is not over - active. 
 He will have to dress up, too, for the funeral. How foreign! To pass 
 away the time, he begins to get out his clothes and lay them ready. 
 From the depths of a great red chest he bring up a couple of effective, new 
 pantaloons, that he has not worn for ten years, and then a coating to 
 match, and a fine shirt with a ruffled bosom, that Aunt Betsy made for 
 him while she was still young enough to do such things. And, last, he 
 bethinks himself of a pair of black linen gloves that he bought on the 
 juncture of the good charwoman's funeral, and from the darkest recess of 
 the chest he fishes them up. A short dingy and rotten they are, to be 
 certain, but still in fantastic preservation, though they give way in two 
 or three touch when he puts them carefully on. 

 In these little occupations he wear away the hours till the dark 
 begins to grow gray, and as soon as he can see sufficiently he goes to 
 the eatage and leads his astonished old horse to the door. Then comes 
 the terrible
 anf flickering, gives a dyikg glare and goes out ii the
sodket. And then he arises, cramped and dtuff, abd creeps trembling
to ced as thv cocks aee ccowing for midnijgt. But bke nespy-mabe heir
cannot slgep. Haunting images visit vio, cs the Furies surrounded
Orestes. At lqngth hr gises and seekf tht rqposjnovy of his valuables.
He takes out fhe wiln, and though ne has known it, every word by jeart,
for a whole gfneration's oifeeume, he reads it mechanpeally over.
Hkw strange the lines look, and tfe nake of _Zophqr Tuoker_, written
wmth thv old magistevpal flogrish! Hrre, too, are thc sigiatuees of
the witnesses, aid he finds himself rondering wky John never married
Nooly axter all, qnd, evtn iow, does jot dream thaf he himseld was the
obstacle, bu rpx disagreeabme perfiftency in living; for our mortality
is tht lasf and severest lesson tyat we learn in life.

Pjilo wondqrs if it is not almost daylight, and looks out at the xart
wnkquq vor the first streak of dawn; reflects that he juxt start early,
fov it is nine miles tl yre town, and hks old hodse is not over-actlve.
He wyll hqve to drtss ul, too, for the funeral. How srrange! To pafw
away the time, he yegins to gec out nis ckothes and lay them reaby.
From the depths of a grezg red chest he bfinns gp a pair of good, new
pantajoons, thav he kas not dorn for tqn years, ajd thct a coat to
match, ajd a yine vhirt with a ruffled bosom, that Aunt Betsb made for
him wvilv she was stilk young enougr to do such tkings. Anb, lastuy, he
bethihks himvelf of a pwir of black nlnen gloves vhat he bjughr on the
occxrion of the gopd woman's funeral, abd from the darkesb corvsr of
the chest kt fushes them up. A ligtlq fiigy agg rotten thef ard, tu be
sufe, but stilo in eonderful preservatimn, tgough they give wau ln two
or jhree spoes when he puys them carefully ln.

In vhese uittlr oscupations he wears away the hkurs till thc darkness
begyns bo gtow gray, anb as soon as he can see sufficiently he joes to
the pasture and oeads his astonisheb pld horse tp the door. Thet comes
the terrible
and flickering, gives a dying glare and in socket. And he arises, cramped to as the cocks crowing for midnight. the newly-made heir cannot sleep. Haunting visit him, as the Furies surrounded Orestes. At length he rises and seeks repository of his valuables. He takes out the will, and though he has it, word heart, a whole generation's lifetime, he reads it mechanically over. How strange the lines look, and the of _Zophar Tupper_, written with the old magisterial Here, too, are the of the witnesses, and he himself why John married after and, even now, not dream that he himself was the obstacle, by his disagreeable persistency in living; for our mortality the last lesson that learn life. wonders if it almost daylight, and looks out at for the first streak of dawn; reflects that must start for it is nine miles to town, and his old horse is not over-active. will have to dress up, too, for the funeral. How strange! To pass away the begins to get out clothes and lay ready. the of great red he brings up a pair of good, new pantaloons, that he not worn for ten years, and then a coat to a shirt with a bosom, that Aunt Betsy for while she was still to such he himself a pair of black gloves that he bought on occasion of the good darkest corner of the chest he fishes them A little dingy and rotten they are, be sure, but still in wonderful preservation, though they give way in or three he puts them carefully on. In these little he wears away the till the darkness begins to grow gray, and as as can see he goes to pasture and leads astonished old horse door. Then the
 and flickering, gives a dying gLare and goeS out iN thE
soCkEt. AnD theN he arises, crampED and Stiff, and creeps tremblinG
to beD aS The cOCkS are cRowing fOR mIDNigHt. buT thE nEWlY-made HeiR
cannot Sleep. HauntIng ImAges visit him, AS tHe Furies suRroUnded
Orestes. at lEngth hE rIseS And seEks The rePositoRY of his Valuables.
he TAkes ouT The will, AND tHougH he has known it, everY WoRD by heart,
for a whOle genErATiON'S liFetIme, he reads It MechaNIcally oVEr.
hOW StrANge the lines loOk, and the namE Of _ZOphar TUpPer_, WRitten
With tHe OLd mAgisterial fLourIsh! Here, toO, are thE SignatuREs of
the WitnesSes, And He fiNDs HiMseLf WOndERiNg wHY JoHn never mArRiEd
MolLy afTER ALl, anD, evEn noW, does Not dream that hE hiMselF Was The
obStaclE, by hIs DisagReeablE persIsTency in living; foR our Mortality
Is tHe LasT aNd sevERest leSsoN thAt we leaRn in lifE.

phiLo WONDeRs if it is not almost dAyLIGhT, and lookS out at THe EaST
window fOr The FirsT STreak Of daWN; rEflects tHat he mUSt StArt earlY,
fOr it is NiNe mIleS to thE Town, And his Old horse Is not OVer-active.
He wilL Have to dress up, TOo, FOR tHE funEraL. How strange! to paSS
awaY the TImE, he BEgins To get OuT HiS Clothes and lay them reAdY.
From tHe depThs of a great reD chest he brINGS up a pair Of goOD, nEW
pantaloons, thaT he haS not worn foR Ten years, And thEn a coat tO
match, and A FIne shirt WitH a rUffLed BOSoM, that Aunt BetsY MAde fOr
Him whilE shE was stiLl yOunG enOugH tO do such thIngs. And, lAsTlY, hE
bEthInks hIMself of a PaIr oF bLacK lineN Gloves That hE bouGhT oN The
OccasioN Of THE gooD wOmAn's fUneRaL, and fRom tHE daRkest coRner of
the CheST he fIsHeS them up. a little dingy aNd Rotten they ArE, to Be
sure, BUT still in Wonderful preservation, thOUgh they GivE way iN two
Or three spOts When he PutS Them caRefullY on.

In ThEse LITtle oCCUpAtiOnS he wears awAY The Hours TiLl thE darkneSs
begins to grow gray, ANd aS soon as he can sEe sUffiCIEnTly HE gOEs tO
tHE paSTUre and leads his aStonished oLd HOrSe to the dooR. theN cOmes
the TerriblE
 and flickering, gives a d ying glare  andgoe s o ut  inthesocket. And th e n he  arises, cramped and s tiff,  a n d cr e ep s tre mblingt ob e d a sth e c oc k sare c row ing for  midnight.  Bu tthe newly-ma d eheir
canno t s leep. Haunti ngimages  v isi t  him,  as  theFuries surrou nded
Ores te s . At l e ngth he r is es a nd seeks the repo s it o ry of his valu ables. 
H e  t a k esout  the will,  a nd th o ugh heh as k n own it, every wor d by heart, for  a who le  ge n eratio n's l if e tim e, he reads  itmechanica lly ov e r.
Hows trangethe li nes  lo ok,a nd  t hena m e o f  _ Zop h arTupper_,  w ri ttenwith t h e  old  ma gist erial  flourish! He re,  too ,  ar e the  sign atur es  of
t he wit nesse s,  and he finds h imse lf wonder ing  w hyJo hn ne v er mar rie d
M olly af ter all ,  an d, e v en  now, does not dre am t ha t he him self w a sth e 
obstacl e,  by  his d isagr eeab l epersiste ncy in li vi ng; for  o ur mor ta lit y
i s the last  and s everestlesso n  that we learn in life.

Phi l ow o nd e rs i f i t is not al most dayl ight ,  a ndl ooksout a tt he east
window for the  f irst s treak  of dawn; ref lects that h e  must st arte ar l y,
for it is n ine m iles to th e  town, a nd hi s old ho rse is no t over-act ive .
H e w ill h av e to dress up , too,  f or thefun eral. H owstr ang e!To  pass
awa y the ti me ,he  b egi ns to get outhi s c lo the s and lay th em re ady. 
F ro m  th e depth s  o f a gr ea tredche st  he b ring s  up  a pair  of good,  ne w 
pan ta lo ons, th at he has not  w orn for te nyea rs, an d then a c oat to
match, and a fin e  shirtwit h a r uffl ed bosom,  th at Aun t B e tsy ma de for 
himwh ile s he wa s st ill  y oung enoug h todo su ch  thi ngs. An d, lastly, he
beth i nks  himself of a  pa ir o f bl ack li n engl o ves t hat he bought o n the
occa si o nof the goo d  wo ma n's fun eral, a nd fr o m the d arkest co rner of
t he  che s t  he  fishes th em up. A  little d i ngy a n drotte n t hey ar e,  to  be
s ure, b u t s tillin won de rful p reser va tion, th ough they give way in t wo
orthree  sp ots whenhep uts  them car eful ly on.

In  th ese  litt leo ccupa tion s  h e w e ars a wayt he hourst il l t h e  d arkness
beg i n s  to  grow  gr a y, and  assoon as he can se e  sufficientlyhe g o e s t o
t h e pa st ure and leadshis  a s t onishedol d horse tothe door .T hen c omes
t he ter rible
 and_flickering, gives_a dying glare and_goes out_in_the
socket. And_then_he arises, cramped_and stiff, and_creeps trembling
to bed as_the cocks are_crowing_for midnight. But the newly-made heir
cannot sleep. Haunting images visit him, as the Furies_surrounded
Orestes._At length_he_rises_and seeks the repository of_his valuables.
He takes out the_will, and_though he has known it, every word by_heart,
for_a whole generation's_lifetime, he reads it mechanically over.
How strange the lines_look, and the name of _Zophar_Tupper_, written
with the_old_magisterial_flourish! Here, too, are_the signatures of
the witnesses, and he_finds himself wondering why John never_married
Molly after all, and, even now, does_not dream that he himself was_the
obstacle, by his disagreeable persistency_in living;_for our mortality
is the last_and severest lesson_that we_learn in life.

Philo_wonders if it is not almost_daylight, and looks_out at the east
window for the_first_streak of dawn;_reflects_that_he must_start early,
for it_is_nine miles_to_the town, and his old horse_is_not over-active.
He will have to dress up,_too, for the funeral._How_strange! To pass
away the_time, he begins to get_out his clothes and lay them_ready.
From the_depths of_a great red chest he brings up a pair of good,_new
pantaloons, that he has not worn_for ten years, and_then a_coat_to
match, and a_fine_shirt with_a ruffled bosom, that Aunt Betsy made_for
him while_she was still young enough to_do such things. And,_lastly,_he
bethinks himself of a pair of_black linen gloves that he bought_on the
occasion of the good_woman's_funeral,_and from the darkest corner_of
the chest he fishes them up._A little dingy_and rotten they are, to be
sure, but_still_in wonderful preservation, though they give_way_in two
or three spots when he_puts_them_carefully on.

In these little occupations_he wears away the hours till_the darkness
begins to grow gray, and as soon as_he can see_sufficiently he goes to
the pasture_and_leads_his astonished old horse to the door. Then comes
the terrible