- A reminiscence of the vulgar fate,
- A frequent sample of the life and death of workmen,
- Each after his kind.
Cold dash of waves at the ferry-wharf, posh and ice in the river, half-frozen mud in the streets,
A gray discouraged sky overhead, the short last daylight of December,
A hearse and stages, the funeral of an old Broadway stage-driver, the cortege mostly drivers.
Steady the trot to the cemetery, duly rattles the death-bell,
- The gate is pass’d, the new-dug grave is halted at, the living alight, the hearse uncloses,
- The coffin is pass’d out, lower’d and settled, the whip is laid on the coffin, the earth is swiftly shovel’d in,
- The mound above is flatted with the spades—silence,
- A minute—no one moves or speaks—it is done,
He is decently put away—is there anything more?
He was a good fellow, free-mouth’d, quick-temper’d, not bad-looking,
- Ready with life or death for a friend,
- fond of women,
- gambled,
- ate hearty,
- drank hearty,
- Had known what it was to be flush,
- grew low-spirited toward the last,
- sicken’d,
- was help’d by a contribution,
- Died, aged forty-one years—and that was his funeral.
- Thumb extended,
- finger uplifted,
- apron,
- cape,
- gloves,
- strap,
- wet-weather clothes,
- whip carefully chosen,
- Boss,
- spotter,
- starter,
- hostler,
- somebody loafing on you,
- you loafing on somebody,
- headway,
- man before and man behind,
- Good day’s work,
- bad day’s work,
- pet stock,
- mean stock,
- first out,
- last out,
- turning-in at night,
To think that these are so much and so nigh to other drivers, and he there takes no interest in them.