by Ambrose Bierce
John Mortonson was dead: his lines in “the tragedy ‘Man’” had all been
spoken and he had left the stage.
The body rested in a fine mahogany coffin fitted with a plate of glass.
All arrangements for the funeral had been so well attended to that had the
deceased known he would doubtless have approved. The face, as it showed under
the glass, was not disagreeable to look upon: it bore a faint smile, and as the
death had been painless, had not been distorted beyond the repairing power of
the undertaker. At two o’clock of the afternoon the friends were to assemble to
pay their last tribute of respect to one who had no further need of friends and
respect. The surviving members of the family came severally every few minutes
to the casket and wept above the placid features beneath the glass. This did
them no good; it did no good to John Mortonson; but in the presence of death
reason and philosophy are silent.
As the hour of two approached the friends began to arrive and after
offering such consolation to the stricken relatives as the proprieties of the
occasion required, solemnly seated themselves about the room with an augmented
consciousness of their importance in the scheme funereal. Then the minister
came, and in that overshadowing presence the lesser lights went into eclipse.
His entrance was followed by that of the widow, whose lamentations filled the
room. She approached the casket and after leaning her face against the cold
glass for a moment was gently led to a seat near her daughter. Mournfully and
low the man of God began his eulogy of the dead, and his doleful voice, mingled
with the sobbing which it was its purpose to stimulate and sustain, rose and
fell, seemed to come and go, like the sound of a sullen sea. The gloomy day
grew darker as he spoke; a curtain of cloud underspread the sky and a few drops
of rain fell audibly. It seemed as if all nature were weeping for John
Mortonson.
When the minister had finished his eulogy with prayer a hymn was sung
and the pall-bearers took their places beside the bier. As the last notes of
the hymn died away the widow ran to the coffin, cast herself upon it and sobbed
hysterically. Gradually, however, she yielded to dissuasion, becoming more
composed; and as the minister was in the act of leading her away her eyes
sought the face of the dead beneath the glass. She threw up her arms and with a
shriek fell backward insensible.
The mourners sprang forward to the coffin, the friends followed, and as
the clock on the mantel solemnly struck three all were staring down upon the
face of John Mortonson, deceased.
They turned away, sick and faint. One man, trying in his terror to
escape the awful sight, stumbled against the coffin so heavily as to knock away
one of its frail supports. The coffin fell to the floor, the glass was
shattered to bits by the concussion.
From the opening crawled John Mortonson’s cat, which lazily leapt to
the floor, sat up, tranquilly wiped its crimson muzzle with a forepaw, then
walked with dignity from the room.
Gordon's Postscript:
Pets consuming the bodies of their owners is a frequent, though rarely mentioned, occurrence. A recent case comes to us from an Argentine newspaper (translation by Hodari Nundu): "A man was found lifeless in a wooden shack in Ushuaia, surrounded by more than a dozen cats that had fed on his body. The local police identified him as Lautaro Torres, 75, who apparently lived alone and died of natural causes, for there were no signs of violence. The police entered the place and found, along with Torres's body, over a dozen cats that had apparently eaten part of their owner."
Pets consuming the bodies of their owners is a frequent, though rarely mentioned, occurrence. A recent case comes to us from an Argentine newspaper (translation by Hodari Nundu): "A man was found lifeless in a wooden shack in Ushuaia, surrounded by more than a dozen cats that had fed on his body. The local police identified him as Lautaro Torres, 75, who apparently lived alone and died of natural causes, for there were no signs of violence. The police entered the place and found, along with Torres's body, over a dozen cats that had apparently eaten part of their owner."