'I shouldn't like that.'

'Oh yes, you would.'

'Is it a nice place, then?'

'Yes, the nicest place in the world, when you get to be so old as I am.
If they would only let me die!'

'Die, grannie!' I exclaimed. My notions of death as yet were derived
only from the fowls brought from the farm, with their necks hanging
down long and limp, and their heads wagging hither and thither.

'Come, grannie, you mustn't frighten our little man,' interposed my
uncle, looking kindly at us both.

'David!' said grannie, with a reproachful dignity, '_you_ know what I
mean well enough. You know that until I have done what I have to do,
the grave that is waiting for me will not open its mouth to receive me.
If you will only allow me to do what I have to do, I shall not trouble
you long. Oh dear! oh dear!' she broke out, moaning and rocking herself
to and fro, 'I am too old to weep, and they will not let me to my bed.
I want to go to bed. I want to go to sleep.'

She moaned and complained like a child. My uncle went near and took her
hand.

'Come, come, dear grannie!' he said, 'you must not behave like this.
You know all things are for the best.'