Some of the graves dated back for a hundred and more
years.
On the morning of the funeral, Uncle Thomas himself tied scraps of crape
around the stems of his tall geraniums, according to an ancient custom; and
Mrs. Tregenza arrived at Drift in good time to join the few who mourned.
Six men bore Joan's oaken coffin to Sancreed, while there walked behind
her, Uncle Chirgwin, Mary and Thomasin, Mr. Bartlett, his wife, Gaffer
Polglaze, and two farm maidens. A few of the Drift folk and half a dozen
young children came in the wake of the procession proper; and that was all.
The mourners and their dead proceeded along the high lanes to Sancreed, and
conversation was general. Uncle Chirgwin tugged at his black gloves and
snuffled, then snuffled and tugged again; Mary walked on one side of him;
and Mrs. Tregenza, in new and heavy black bought for another, found the
opportunity convenient for the display of varied grief, as she marched
along on the farmer's right hand. Her condition indeed became hysterical,
and Mary only soothed her with difficulty. So the party crawled within
sound of the minute bell and presently reached the church. The undertaker
buzzed here and there issuing directions, an old clergyman met the dead at
the lych-gate and walked before her up the aisle; while those who had a
right to attend the service, clustered in the pews to right and left of the
trestles. Upon them lay Joan.
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