when there was a momentary calm in that tempestuous sea of sound, the leader gave the sign, the procession resumed its march. on they went, like fiends that throng in mockery around some dead potentate, mighty no more, but majestic still in his agony. on they went, in counterfeited pomp, in senseless uproar, in frenzied merriment, trampling all on an old man's heart. on swept the tumult, and left a silent street behind.