"No you WON'T," said Susan. "I, as his last wife, shall strew
flowers on his grave. It's MY business to strew!"

"You shan't, so there!" said Henrietta.

"You bet I will!" said Susan, with a tear-suffused cheek.

"Well, as for me," said the practical Betsy, "I ain't on the
Strew, much, but I shall ride at the head of the funeral
procession!"

"Not if I've been introduced to myself, you won't," said the
golden-haired Nelly; "that's my position. You bet your bonnet-
strings it is."

"Children," said Reginald's mother, "you must do some crying, you
know, on the day of the funeral; and how many pocket-handkerchers
will it take to go round? Betsy, you and Nelly ought to make one
do between you."

"I'll tear her eyes out if she perpetrates a sob on my
handkercher!" said Nelly.

"Dear daughters in-law," said Reginald's mother, "how unseemly is
this anger! Mules is five hundred dollars a span, and every
identical mule my poor boy had has been gobbled up by the red
man. I knew when my Reginald staggered into the door-yard that
he was on the Die, but if I'd only thunk to ask him about them
mules ere his gentle spirit took flight, it would have been four
thousand dollars in OUR pockets, and NO mistake! Excuse those