must be to go down into the cold, dark ground, and be shut up in a tight
box, 'nd want to git out--git out--'nd keep hollerin' 'nd a-hollerin',
and nobody come to fetch yer, cause yer's dead!"

"Oh, Patsy, child, stop such fearful thoughts! I hope people are glad
and willing to stay when they are dead. The part of them that wonders
and thinks and feels and loves and is happy or sad--you know what I
mean, don't you?"

"Yes," he said slowly, leaning his head on his hand.

"God takes care of that part; it is His own, and He makes it all right.
And as for our bodies, Patsy, you don't care about keeping your poor
little aching back, do you? You talk about the cold, dark earth. Why, I
think of it as the tender, warm earth, that holds the little brown acorn
until it begins to grow into a spreading oak-tree, and nurses the little
seeds till they grow into lovely blossoming flowers. Now we must trot
home, Patsy. Wrap this shawl over your shoulders, and come under my
umbrella."

"Oh, I don't need any shawl, please. I'm so orful hot!"

"That's just the reason," I replied, as I looked with anxious eyes at
his flushed cheeks.

I left him at the little door on Anna Street, and persuaded Mrs. Kennett
to give him some hot soup at dinner-time.

The next morning I was startled from a profound sleep by a tremendous
peal of the door-bell. Though only half awakened, my forebodings seemed