TOO REFINED AND TOO LATE.
She kissed the old man, says an exchange; she showered upon him kisses and tears. She told all the people how good he was. I thought if she had only given two of those kisses per quarter for the last ten years how the tender-hearted old gentleman would have smiled through his tears. But now he took it all very coolly. He was dead. He was old and poor, she was young and rich. She had ten rooms, but no room for father. Yet he had made room for her when he had only two. The “old man” was not educated. She was, at his expense. He had fed and clothed her for twenty years at home and at college, until she had risen into more “refined and cultured society,” and married among them. The old people’s dress and dialect were too coarse. She kissed him and buried him in a beautiful coffin. “Dear father!” is to have a costly marble monument. A warm kiss while living is better than cold marble when dead.