Speaking of sleeping in a casket: How about spending the next seven minutes of your life reading chapter LIII of Mark Twain’s Roughing It?
Reminds me of the time when Grandpa Simpson told this yarn to Mr. Burns:
Like the time I took the ferry to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe, so I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on them. Give me five bees for a quarter you’d say. Now where were we… The important thing was that I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn’t have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones.
…Chapter LIII of Twain’s Innocents Abroad also fascinates. He recounts his visit to Jerusalem. To my mind imprudently, he dismisses the authenticity of most of the sites to which he and his fellow pilgrims were conducted.
But he eloquently and adamantly defends the accuracy of the location of the chapel of the crucifixion in the church of the Holy Sepulchre.