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150
Literary Lapses
·
Stephen Leacock
149
On
the
evening
of
the
next
day,
as
the
shadows
deepened
in
the
little
room,
it
was
clear
to
all
that
the
end
was
near.
I
think
that
even
A
was
affected
at
the
last
as
he
stood
with
bowed
head,
aimlessly
offering
to
bet
with
the
doctor
on
C's
laboured
breathing.
"A,"
whispered
C,
"I
think
I'm
going
fast."
"How
fast
do
you
think
you'll
go,
old
man?"
murmured
A.
"I
don't
know,"
said
C,
"but
I'm
going
at
any
rate."--The
end
came
soon
after
that.
C
rallied
for
a
moment
and
asked
for
a
certain
piece
of
work
that
he
had
left
downstairs.
A
put
it
in
his
arms
and
he
expired.
As
his
soul
sped
heavenward
A
watched
its
flight
with
melancholy
admiration.
B
burst
into
a
passionate
flood
of
tears
and
sobbed,
"Put
away
his
little
cistern
and
the
rowing
clothes
he
used
to
wear,
I
feel
as
if
I
could
hardly
ever
dig
again."--The
funeral
was
plain
and
unostentatious.
It
differed
in
nothing
from
the
ordinary,
except
that
out
of
deference
to
sporting
men
and
mathematicians,
A
engaged
two
hearses.
Both
vehicles
started
at
the
same
time,
B
driving
the
one
which
bore
the
sable
parallelopiped
containing
the
last
remains
of
his
ill-fated
friend.
A
on
the
box
of
the
empty
hearse
generously
consented
to
a
handicap
of
a
hundred
yards,
but
arrived
first
at
the
cemetery
by
driving
four
times
as
fast
as
B.
(Find
the
distance
to
the
cemetery.)
As
the
sarcophagus
was
lowered,
the
grave
was
surrounded
by
the
broken
figures
of
the
first
book
of
Euclid.--It
was
noticed
that
after
the
death
of
C,
A
became
a
changed
man.
He
lost
interest
in
racing
with
B,
and
dug
but
languidly.
He
finally
gave
up
his
work
and
settled
down
to
live
on
the
interest
of
his
bets.--B
never
recovered
from
the
shock
of
C's
death;
his
grief
preyed
upon
his
intellect
and
it
became
deranged.
He
grew
moody
and
spoke
only
in
monosyllables.
His
disease
became
rapidly
aggravated,
and
he
presently
spoke
only
in
words
whose
spelling
was
regular
and
which
presented
no
difficulty
to
the
beginner.
Realizing
his
precarious
condition
he
voluntarily
submitted
to
be
incarcerated
in
an
asylum,
where
he
abjured
mathematics
and
devoted
himself
to
writing
the
History
of
the
Swiss
Family
Robinson
in
words
of
one
syllable.
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