When Solomon was in one of his "reverdies," as his old wife used to call them when she was alive, he seldom took much notice of what was going on around him, and he had almost forgotten the little girl, when she said suddenly, in a half-frightened voice—
"I wonder what they call you, old man?"
"Solomon," said the grave-digger; "Mr. Solomon Whitaker—that's my name."
"Then, please, Mr. Solemn, what are you doing down there?"
"I'm digging a grave," said Solomon.
"What's it for, please, Mr. Solemn?" asked the child.
"Why, to bury folks in, of course," said the old man.
Little Dot retreated several steps when she heard this, as if she were afraid Mr. Solomon might want to bury her. When he looked up again there was only a corner of her white pinafore in sight. But as he went on quietly with his work, and took no notice of her, Dot thought she might venture near again, for she wanted to ask Mr. Solomon another question.
"Please," she began, "who are you going to put in that there hole?"
"It's a man as fell down dead last week. He was a hard-working fellow, that he was," said the grave-digger; for he always liked to give people a good word when digging their graves.