From  The Day of The Locust, by Nathanael West 1939



         17
         
         ON the day of Harry's funeral Tod was drunk. He hadn't
         seen Faye since she went off with Mary Dove, but he knew
         that he was certain to find her at the undertaking parlour
         and he wanted to have the courage to quarrel with her. He
         started drinking at lunch. When he got to Holsepp's in the 
         late afternoon, he had passed the brave state and was
         into the ugly one.
            He found Harry in his box, waiting to be wheeled out 
         for exhibition in the adjoining chapel. The casket was open 
         and the old man looked quite snug. Drawn up to a little
         below his shoulders and folded back to show its fancy lining 
         was an ivory satin coverlet. Under his head was a tiny lace 
         cushion. He was wearing a tuxedo, or at least had on a black 
         bow tie with his stiff shirt and wing collar. His face had been 
         newly shaved, his eyebrows shaped and plucked, and his 
         lips and cheeks rouged. He looked like the interlocutor in a 
         minstrel show.
            Tod bowed his head as though in silent prayer when he 
         heard someone come in. He recognized Mrs Johnson's voice 
         and turned carefully to face her. He caught her eye and 
         nodded, but she ignored him. She was busy with a man in a 
         badly fitting frock-coat.
            'It's the principle of the thing,' she scolded. 'Your esti-
         mate said bronze. Those handles ain't bronze and you know 
         it.'
            'But I asked Miss Greener,' whined the man. 'She okayed 
         them.'
            'I don't care. I'm surprised at you, trying to save a few 
         dollars by fobbing off a set of cheap gunmetal handles on 
         the poor child.'              
            Ted didn't wait for the undertaker to answer. He had seen 
         Faye pass the door on the arm of one of the Lee sisters. 
         When he caught up with her, he didn't know what to say. 
         She misunderstood his agitation and was touched. She 
         sobbed a little for him.
             She had never looked more beautiful. 




More about this Author
Buy this book from amazon.co.ukin the UK and amazon.com in the USA.
contents Part of the Library of Bernadette Tavernin - © 1999 next book