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Chapter 7

           Iwasgoingonthinkingawayallthesegrand,tenderthoughts,whenmyreveriewasbrokeninuponbyashrillpipingvoicecryingout: 

           "Allright,sur,I’ma-coming,I’ma-coming.It’sallright,sur;don’tyoubeinahurry." 

           Ilookedup,andsawanoldbald-headedmanhobblingacrossthechurchyardtowardsme,carryingahugebunchofkeysinhishandthatshookandjingledateverystep. 

           Imotionedhimawaywithsilentdignity,buthestilladvanced,screechingoutthewhile: 

           "I’ma-coming,sur,I’ma-coming.I’malittlelame.Iain’tasspryasIusedtobe.Thisway,sur." 

           "Goaway,youmiserableoldman,"Isaid. 

           "I’vecomeassoonasIcould,sur,"hereplied."Mymissisneverseeyoutilljustthisminute.Youfollowme,sur." 

           "Goaway,"Irepeated;"leavemebeforeIgetoverthewall,andslayyou." 

           Heseemedsurprised. 

           "Don’tyouwanttoseethetombs?"hesaid. 

           "No,"Ianswered,"Idon’t.Iwanttostophere,leaningupagainstthisgrittyoldwall.Goaway,anddon’tdisturbme. Iamchockfullofbeautifulandnoblethoughts,andIwanttostoplikeit,becauseitfeelsniceandgood. Don’tyoucomefoolingabout,makingmemad,chivyingawayallmybetterfeelingswiththissillytombstonenonsenseofyours. Goaway,andgetsomebodytoburyyoucheap,andI’llpayhalftheexpense." 

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