There was a wail along the road as if a funeral were passing . To chase away the gloom , the family threw pine-branches on their fire till the dry leaves crackled and the flame arose , discovering once again a scene of peace and humble happiness . The light hovered about them fondly and caressed them all . There were the little faces of the children peeping from their bed apart , and here the father 's frame of strength , the mother 's subdued and careful mien , the high-browed youth , the budding girl and the good old grandam , still knitting in the warmest place . The aged woman looked up from her task , and with fingers ever busy was the next to speak . `` Old folks have their notions , '' said she , `` as well as young ones . You 've been wishing and planning and letting your heads run on one thing and another till you 've set my mind a-wandering too . Now , what should an old woman wish for , when she can go but a step or two before she comes to her grave ? Children , it will haunt me night and day till I tell you . '' `` What is it , mother ? '' cried the husband and wife at once . Then the old woman , with an air of mystery which drew the circle closer round the fire , informed them that she had provided her grave-clothes some years before -- a nice linen shroud , a cap with a muslin ruff , and everything of a finer sort than she had worn since her wedding-day . But this evening an old superstition had strangely recurred to her . It used to be said in her younger days that if anything were amiss with a corpse -- if only the ruff were not smooth or the cap did not set right -- the corpse , in the coffin and beneath the clods , would strive to put up its cold hands and arrange it . The bare thought made her nervous . `` Do n't talk so , grandmother , '' said the girl , shuddering . `` Now , '' continued the old woman , with singular earnestness , yet smiling strangely at her own folly , `` I want one of you , my children , when your mother is dressed and in the coffin , -- I want one of you to hold a looking-glass over my face . Who knows but I may take a glimpse at myself and see whether all 's right ? '' `` Old and young , we dream of graves and monuments , '' murmured the stranger-youth . `` I wonder how mariners feel when the ship is sinking and they , unknown and undistinguished , are to be buried together in the ocean , that wide and nameless sepulchre ? ''
For a moment the old woman 's ghastly conception so engrossed the minds XXXXX her hearers that a sound abroad in the night , rising like the roar of a blast , had grown broad , deep and terrible before the fated group were conscious of it .
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