often. One held her gaze an instant, with its well-known marble hand,
pointing the place in a marble book in which was carved one text. How
often she had spelled the words, pointing out the deeply carven letters
to Davy: "_Be ye also ready._"

She had a vague feeling that the headstones knew she was going away and
would miss her. "Good-bye," she said to them, too, nodding the white
sunbonnet gravely. It seemed a solemn thing to start on such a journey.
After leaving the church there was only one more place to bid good-bye,
and that was the schoolhouse sitting through its lonely vacation time
in a deserted playground, gone to weeds.

There was no time to spare at the station. Mr. Appleton tied the horses
and hurried to have Betty's trunk checked. The shriek of the locomotive
coming down the track made Betty turn cold. It was like a great demon
thundering toward her. Davy edged closer to her, moved by the strange
surroundings to ask a question.

"Say, Betty, ain't you afraid?"

"Yes," she confessed, squeezing the warm little hand in her own, which
had suddenly seemed to turn to ice. "My heart is going bump-bump-bump
like a scared wild rabbit's; but I keep saying over and over to myself
what the python said. Don't you remember in Kaa's hunting? 'A brave
heart and a courteous tongue, said he, they shall carry thee far through
the jungle, manling.' It can't be such a very big jungle that I'm going
into, and godmother will meet me in a few hours. Don't forget me, Davy,
while I'm gone."

She stooped to give the little fellow a hug and a kiss on each dimpled