Nan and Bobby came to the funeral, and Bobby chose to be undertaker,
while Nan insisted on preaching the sermon.

"You preached yesterday," she said to Ethelwyn, who also wished to.

"And you did the day before--"

"I think I ought to," said Beth, "because it's my fam'ly."

"That's why you shouldn't, child," said Nan. "Would my father enjoy
preaching my funeral sermon, do you think?" she asked triumphantly. And
while they were doubtfully considering this, she began the service.

Beth attired in Aunt Mandy's large black shawl was very warm and
mournful.

The family, especially Billy Boy's widow, were wrapped in black calico
swaddling garments, and looked more stiff than ever, but still smiling.

The remains were in cigar boxes, all but Billy's wig and eyes which Beth
had thoughtfully saved for another doll.

"I am sorry I have to preach this sad sermon," said Nan.

"Might have let me, then," said a voice from the congregation.

"The mourners will please keep quiet," said the preacher sternly, "and
if the widow and orphans wouldn't grin so, I'd be glad. You'd better be
thinking about how you'd feel to be buried, and you are likely to be in