"I don't care," said Tristram affably.
"P'r'aps you don't know what 'Don't Care' came to?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, he came to—a place. It was a good deal deeper down than this hole I'm digging."
"What's the hole for?"
"My doll, here. I've got to put away childish things; so I'm going to cover her right up and never see her face again. Oh! oh!"
She began to sob as if her heart would break.
"I wouldn't cry if I were you. I didn't cry just now when I tumbled off the flower-pot."
"You don't know what it is to be a mother."
"No, but I can dig ever so much better than you. Look here. I've got a spade of my own, and I'll show you how to dig properly, if you like."