He erected a second obelisk, and it was taller than the first (height had a curious fascination for him), and the inscription was more touching than the other.

This time the material was Aberdeen granite, and as that is most difficult to cut, hard to polish, and heavy to transport, the expense was enormous.

These two monstrosities of mortuary pomp were the pride of the parish, and they were familiarly known to us children (and to many other people) as "the Major's wives." When we called the cock "the Major," we naturally called the hens "the Major's wives." "My dears, I don't like that name at all," said my mother.

"I never like jokes about people who are dead.

And for that matter, it really sounds as if they were both alive, which is worse." It was during our naughty period, and I strutted on my heels till I must have looked very like the little brewer himself, and said, "And why shouldn't they both be alive?
Fancy the Major with two wives, one on each arm, and both as tall as the monuments! What fun!" As I said the words "one on each arm," I put up first one and then the other of my own, and having got a satisfactory impetus during the rest of my sentence, I crossed the parlour as a catherine-wheel under my mother's nose.