THE month's trial over, Oliver was formally apprenticed.
It was a nice sickly season just at this time. In commercial
phrase, coffins were looking up; and, in the course of a few
weeks, Oliver acquired a great deal of experience. The
success of Mr. Sowerberry's ingenious speculation, ex-
ceeded even his most sanguine hopes. The oldest inhabitants
recollected no period at which measles had been so pre-
valent, or so fatal to infant existence; and many were the
mournful processions which little Oliver headed, in a hat-
band reaching down to his knees, to the indescribable ad-
miration and emotion of all the mothers in the town. As
Oliver accompanied his master in most of his adult expedi-
tions, too, in order that he might acquire that equanimity
of demeanour and full command of nerve which are essen-
tial to a finished undertaker, he had many opportunities of
observing the beautiful resignation and fortitude with
which somestrong-minded people bear their trials and losses.

For instance; when Sowerberry had an order for the
burial of some rich old lady or gentleman, who was sur-
rounded by a great number of nephews and nieces, who
had been perfectly inconsolable during the previous illness,
and whose grief had been wholly irrepressible even on the
most public occasions, they would be as happy among
themselves as need be -- quite cheerful and contented -- con-
versing together with as much freedom and gaiety, as if
nothing whatever had happened to disturb them. Husbands,
too, bore the loss of their wives with the most heroic calm-
ness. Wives, again, put on weeds for their husbands, as if,
so far from grieving in the garb of sorrow, they had made
up their minds to render it as becoming and attractive as

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