"But, Dumps, what become of her?" asked Diddie.

"I dunno what become uv her," said Dumps. "She went ter hebn, I
reckon."

"But she couldn't go ter hebn ef she's so bad," said Diddie; "the
angel wouldn't let her come in,"

"The cow throwed her in," said Dumps, "an' the angel wan't er lookin',
an' he nuver knowed nothin' 'bout it."

"That's er mighty funny story," said Diddie; "but I'll let it stay in
the book-- only you ain't finished it, Dumps. Hyear's fo' mo' lines of
paper ain't written yet."

"That's all I know," replied Dumps. And Diddie, after considering
awhile, said she thought it would be very nice to wind it up with a
piece of poetry. Dumps was delighted at that suggestion, and the
little girls puzzled their brains for rhymes. After thinking for some
time, Diddie wrote,

"Once 'twas a little girl, and she was so bad,"

and read it aloud; then said, "Now, Dumps, sposin' you make up the
nex' line."

Dumps buried her face in her hands, and remained in deep study for a
few moments, and presently said,

"And now she is dead, an' I am so glad."