"Mr. Solemn," she said one day, "don't you wish you were just like a bird?"
"No," said the old man—"no, Dot; I'd rather be digging my graves."
"But, Mr. Solemn, they've got two wings," she went on.
"And what would you do with two wings, my little dear?" said the grave-digger.
"I'd go right up into the sky, and look for my little girl," said Dot.
"Oh," said Solomon, "your thoughts are always running on that, Dot. How's dolly to-day?"
But Dot had left her dolly at home—she had almost forgotten it the last day or two.
[CHAPTER VI]
SOWING SEEDS
THE next week was very wet, and Dot's mother would not let her go into the cemetery. So she sat at home by the fire with her doll upon her knee, wondering what her little girl was doing, and whether she was really in the sky. Then she listened to the rain pattering against the window-panes, and thought how wet the little grave would be, and how bare it must look, now there were no daisies upon it. Dot hoped very, very much that her little girl was not inside.