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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
114
"I
want
McAlway
to
conduct
my
funeral,
not
as
a
minister
but
as
a
man.
He
has
been
my
friend
for
forty
years;
he
will
know
what
I
mean."
The
Scotch
Preacher
did
not
say
much.
Why
should
he?
Everyone
there
knew:
and
speech
would
only
have
cheapened
what
we
knew.
And
I
do
not
now
recall
even
the
little
he
said,
for
there
was
so
much
all
about
me
that
spoke
not
of
the
death
of
a
good
man,
but
of
his
life.
A
boy
who
stood
near
me--a
boy
no
longer,
for
he
was
as
tall
as
a
man--gave
a
more
eloquent
tribute
than
any
preacher
could
have
done.
I
saw
him
stand
his
ground
for
a
time
with
that
grim
courage
of
youth
which
dreads
emotion
more
than
a
battle:
and
then
I
saw
him
crying
behind
a
tree!
He
was
not
a
relative
of
the
old
doctor's;
he
was
only
one
of
many
into
whose
deep
life
the
doctor
had
entered.
They
sang
"Lead,
Kindly
Light,"
and
came
out
through
the
narrow
doorway
into
the
sunshine
with
the
coffin,
the
hats
of
the
pallbearers
in
a
row
on
top,
and
there
was
hardly
a
dry
eye
among
us.
And
as
they
came
out
through
the
narrow
doorway,
I
thought
how
the
Doctor
must
have
looked
out
daily
through
so
many,
many
years
upon
this
beauty
of
hills
and
fields
and
of
sky
above,
grown
dearer
from
long
familiarity--which
he
would
know
no
more.
And
Kate
North,
the
Doctor's
sister,
his
only
relative,
followed
behind,
her
fine
old
face
gray
and
set,
but
without
a
tear
in
her
eye.
How
like
the
Doctor
she
looked:
the
same
stern
control!
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