"When did she die?" asked Mrs. Graffam.

"Just as the grass was getting green," said Mary. "It was a fit time
for her to die, Mrs. Graffam; for she was born in the spring, and it
seemed exactly as though the sweet bud had to go back to the
summer-land before it could bloom."

"And if your little baby dies, Mrs. Graffam," said Eddy, "he will be a
flower in God's garden; won't he, Mary?"

"Yes," whispered Mary, while the poor woman's face flushed, and her lip
quivered. Mary glanced at Edwin, and remembered her errand.

"Mrs. Graffam," said she, "I know that the blue-berry parties must be a
great trouble to you, and we would not have come here for water, only
Eddy is not very well."

"You are welcome to as much water as you want," interrupted Mrs.
Graffam, "and so is any one who can treat us with civility. We are very
poor, it is true, and that is not our greatest misfortune either; but
it is hard to be despised."

While Mary was gone for the water, Emma sat looking at the sick baby,
and noticed, that though the weather was warm, its skeleton limbs
looked blue and cold. She was going to advise the mother to wrap it in
flannel, when the thought that perhaps the poor woman had none,
prevented her speaking: for Christian courtesy never says to the poor
"Be ye warmed and clothed," while it provides not the things which are
necessary; and fortunately Emma thought it time enough to speak of what