CHAPTER 3

THE LITTLE GRAVE

Old Solomon was digging a grave one day in a very quiet corner of the cemetery. Dot was with him as usual, prattling away in her pretty childish way.

“It's a tidy grave is this,” remarked the old man, as he smoothed the sides with his spade; nice and dry, too; it'll do me credit.”

“It's a very little one,” said Dot.

“Yes, it's like to be little when it's for a little girl; you wouldn't want a very big grave, Dot.”

“No,” said Dot; “but you would want a good big one, wouldn't you, Mr. Solemn?”

The mention of his own grave always made Solomon go into one of his “reverdies.” But he was recalled by Dot's asking quickly––

“Mr. Solemn, is she a very little girl?”

“Yes,” said the old man; “maybe about your size, Dot. Her pa came about the grave. I was in the office when he called, 'and,' said he, 'I want a nice quiet little corner, for it is for my little girl.'“

“Did he look sorry?” said Dot.

“Yes,” he said; “folks mostly do look sorry when they come about graves.”

Dot had never watched the digging of a grave with so much interest as she did that of this little girl. She never left Solomon's side, not even to play with her doll. She was very quiet, too, as she stood with her large eyes wide open, watching all his movements. He wondered what had come over her, and he looked up several times rather anxiously as he threw up the spadefuls of earth. “Mr. Solemn,” she said, when she had finished, “when will they put the little girl in?”

“To-morrow morning,” said the old man, “somewhere about eleven.”

Dot nodded her head, and made up her mind she would be in this corner of the cemetery at eleven o'clock.

When Solomon came back from his dinner, and went to take a last look at the little grave, he found the bottom of it covered with white daisies which Dot had thrown in.

“She has made it pretty, bless her!” he murmured.

Dot crept behind the bushes near the chapel the next day, to watch the little girl's funeral arrive. She saw the small coffin taken from the hearse, and carried on in front. Then she watched the people get out of the carriages, and a lady and gentleman, whom she felt sure were the little girl's father and mother, walked on first. The lady had her handkerchief to her eyes, and Dot could see that she was crying. After her walked two little girls, and they were crying also.

There were a few other people at the funeral, but Dot did not care to look at them; she wanted to see what became of the little girl's coffin, which had just been carried into the chapel. She waited patiently till they brought it out, and then she followed the mournful procession at a little distance, till they reached the corner of the cemetery where Solomon had dug the grave.

Solomon was there, standing by the grave, when the bearers came up with the coffin. Dot could see him quite well, and she could see the minister standing at the end of the grave, and all the people in a circle round it 

She did not like to go very near, but she could hear the minister reading something in a very solemn voice, and then the coffin was let down into the grave. The little girl's mamma cried very much, and Dot cried too, she felt so sorry for her.

When the service was over, they all looked into the grave, and then they walked away. Dot ran up as soon as they were gone, and, taking hold of Solomon's hand, she peeped into the grave. The little coffin was at the bottom, and some of Dot's daisies were lying round it.

“Is the little girl inside there?” said Dot, in an awe-struck voice.

“Yes,” said Solomon, “she's in there, poor little thing. I'll have to fill it up now.”

“Isn't it very dark?” said Dot.

“Isn't what dark?”

“In there,” said Dot. “Isn't it very dark and cold for the poor little girl?”

“Oh, I don't know about that,” said Solomon. “I don't suppose folks feels cold when they are dead; anyhow, we must cover her up warm.” But poor Dot's heart was very full; and, sitting on the grass beside the little girl's grave, she began to cry and sob as if her heart would break.

“Don't cry, Dot, said the old man; maybe the little girl knows nothing about it––maybe she's asleep like.”

But Dot's tears only flowed the faster. For she felt sure if the little girl were asleep, and knew nothing about it, as old Solomon said, she would be waking up some day, and then how dreadful it would be for her.

“Come, Dot,” said Solomon, at last, “I must fill it up.”

Then Dot jumped up hastily. “Please, Mr. Solemn, wait one minute,” she cried, as she disappeared amongst the bushes.

“Whatever is she up to now?” said the old grave-digger.

She soon came back with her pinafore full of daisies. She had been gathering them all the morning, and had hid them in a shady place under the trees. Then, with a little sob, she threw them into the deep grave, and watched them fall on the little coffin. After this she watched Solomon finish his work, and did not go home till the little girl's grave was made, as old Solomon said, “all right and comfortable.”

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