"Isn't it very dark?" said Dot.
"Isn't what dark?"
"In there," said Dot. "Isn't it very dark and cold for the poor little girl?"
"Oh, I don't know that," said Solomon. "I don't suppose folks feels cold when they are dead; anyhow, we must cover her up warm."
But poor Dot's heart was very full; and, sitting on the grass beside the little girl's grave, she began to cry and sob as if her heart would break.
"Don't cry, Dot," said the old man; "maybe the little girl knows nothing about it—maybe she's asleep like."
But Dot's tears only flowed the faster. For she felt sure if the little girl were asleep, and knew nothing about it, as old Solomon said, she would be waking up some day, and then how dreadful it would be for her.
"Come, Dot," said Solomon at last, "I must fill it up."
Then Dot jumped up hastily. "Please, Mr. Solemn, wait one minute," she cried, as she disappeared amongst the bushes.
"Whatever is she up to now?" said the old grave-digger.