It fell out that there were two doll funerals the next day.
Beth lost Ariminta, her composition doll, and she went down into the garden early to find her. She looked in Bose's kennel, but it wasn't there; then she saw a robin in the path digging worms, and he looked so wise that she followed him to the early harvest apple-tree, and sure enough! there was Ariminta on a lower branch where she had put her the night before. She was very wet, for it had rained, and her wig was quite soaked off. So, filled with remorse, Beth went after the glue-pot.
"I never knew such a mean mother as I am," she said, "I haven't any thinkery at all, worth mentioning. If your grandmother, my dear, should leave me out, till my hair soaked off—say, sister," she broke off suddenly to ask—"what keeps our hair on?"
Ethelwyn never at a loss for an answer, said promptly, "Dust, child"
"I haven't any," said Beth, feeling her short brown curls cautiously for fear they would come off.
"It's small in small persons, and big in big persons," said Ethelwyn, with a patient air of having given much thought to the subject.
"Ho!" said Beth. "Well if Ariminta's going to be dry for Billy Boy's funeral, I'll have to dry her in the oven."
But alas! for Beth's "thinkery not worth mentioning!" In her haste to get back to prepare herself and family for the funeral, she forgot to tell Aunt Mandy, who was going to make cake, and so started a fire in the stove. When she opened the oven door to put in the cake, she took out Ariminta's remains, and that is why there were two subjects for a funeral instead of one.
Beth was exceedingly sorry, and wept a few real tears over Ariminta.
"I'm a double widow, and a orphing to-day," she said, "and I don't reserve a single child to my name!"