"I wouldn't say that. There's naught revealed on them matters. But I'm cruel certain that up aloft there'll be a rumpus if Peter wakes up and don't find his ship."
"You may take it away; I'll have none of it," said Jane.
So the old woman departed, but was not disposed to accept discomfiture. She went to the undertaker.
"Mr. Matthews, I want you to put this here boat in wi' my gran'child Peter. It will go in fitty at his feet."
"Very sorry, ma'am, but not unless I break off the bowsprit. You see the coffin is too narrow."
"Then put'n in sideways and longways."
"Very sorry, ma'am, but the mast is in the way. I'd be forced to break that so as to get the lid down."
Disconcerted, the old woman retired; she would not suffer Peter's boat to be maltreated.
On the occasion of the funeral, the grandmother appeared as one of the principal mourners. For certain reasons, Mrs. Jane did not attend at the church and grave.
As the procession left the house, Old Betty took her place beside her son, and carried the boat in her hand. At the close of the service at the grave, she said to the sexton: "I'll trouble you, John Hext, to put this here little ship right o' top o' his coffin. I made'n for Peter, and Peter'll expect to have'n." This was done, and not a step from the grave would the grandmother take till the first shovelfuls had fallen on the coffin and had partially buried the white ship.