Betty retrod her way to the big tree quickly, fearing that she might be called before her duty was done.
She knelt down before the dead form and clasped her little hands in prayer.
"Dear God," she said tearfully, "None but you knows jes' how I feel. Take care of Tinkey, an' make me feel better. Amen."
Edna's soft tread behind her made her turn.
"Give me the towel, Edna, and take the box an' fill it with flowers. Tinkey did so love flowers. When you come back, I'll have her all dried for the funeral."
Edna's sympathy brought tears, too. "All right," she said simply, and wandered across the field for the funeral flowers.
When she returned, Betty had Tinkey dried and combed and looking fairly natural.
Gently they placed the kitten in the box and tastefully arranged the flowers about it.
"Now to dig the grave," said Betty. "It's the hardest part to bury her, ain't it?"
"Do you think that Tinkey knows we're givin' her a funeral?" asked Edna, awed.