"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 he had finished, "when will they put the little girl in?"