that 'd stand in his way at sech a time?  And what kind o' uncles would it be that 'd rob--yes, _rob_--sech poor sweet lambs as these 'at he loved so at sech a time?  If I know William--and I _think_ I do--he--well, I'll jest ask him.” He turns around and begins to make a lot of signs to the duke with his hands, and the duke he looks at him stupid and leather-headed a while; then all of a sudden he seems to catch his meaning, and jumps for the king, goo-gooing with all his might for joy, and hugs him about fifteen times before he lets up.  Then the king says, “I knowed it; I reckon _that 'll_ convince anybody the way _he_ feels about it.  Here, Mary Jane, Susan, Joanner, take the money--take it _all_.  It's the gift of him that lays yonder, cold but joyful.” Mary Jane she went for him, Susan and the hare-lip went for the duke, and then such another hugging and kissing I never see yet.  And everybody crowded up with the tears in their eyes, and most shook the hands off of them frauds, saying all the time: “You _dear_ good souls!--how _lovely_!--how _could_ you!” Well, then, pretty soon all hands got to talking about the diseased again, and how good he was, and what a loss he was, and all that; and before long a big iron-jawed man worked himself in there from outside, and stood a-listening and looking, and not saying anything; and nobody saying anything to him either, because the king was talking and they was all busy listening.  The king was saying--in the middle of something he'd started in on-- “--they bein' 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, “_Obsequ