A gentleman of the country, who had just buried a rich relation, an attorney, was complaining to [a Londoner] of the very great expense of a country funeral. 'Why, do you bury your Attornies here?' asked [the Londoner] gravely, - 'Yes, to be sure we do: how else?' - 'Oh! we never do that in London,' - 'No!' said the other, much surprised, 'how do you manage?' 'Why, when the patient happens to die, we lay him out in a room over night by himself, lock the door, throw up the sash, and in the morning he is entirely gone off.' 'Indeed!' cried the other in amazement; 'what becomes of him?' 'Why, that we cannot exactly tell, not being acquainted with supernatural causes. - All that we know of the matter is that there's a strong smell of brimstone in the room the next morning.'
Bristol Gazette, 21 June 1821