towards the close of the story, happening to look down upon her, he saw
that her blue eyes were wide open, and fixed earnestly upon his face.
The tears had gathered in them, like dew upon a delicate flower; but
when Grandfather ceased to speak, the sunshine of her smile broke forth
again.

"Oh, the lady must have been so glad to get to heaven!" exclaimed little
Alice. "Grandfather, what became of Mr. Johnson?" asked Clara.

"His heart appears to have been quite broken," answered Grandfather;
"for he died at Boston within a month after the death of his wife. He
was buried in the very same tract of ground where he had intended to
build a dwelling for Lady Arbella and himself. Where their house would
have stood, there was his grave."

"I never heard anything so melancholy," said Clara.

"The people loved and respected Mr. Johnson so much," continued
Grandfather, "that it was the last request of many of them, when they
died, that they might be buried as near as possible to this good man's
grave. And so the field became the first burial ground in Boston. When
you pass through Tremont Street, along by King's Chapel, you see a
burial-ground, containing many old grave-stones and monuments. That was
Mr. Johnson's field."

"How sad is the thought," observed Clara, "that one of the first things
which the settlers had to do, when they came to the New World, was to
set apart a burial-ground!"

"Perhaps," said Laurence, "if they had found no need of burial-grounds