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448 A GREAT GRIEF |
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is like one of the family, faithful and grumpy, but that is because he is teased by my grandchildren : they play at weddings, and want to give him the part of the bridesmaid, and that's too much for him, poor old fellow.'
And she delivered her papers, and took Puggie upon her arm. And this is the first part of the story, which might have been left out.
Puggie died ! ! That 's the second part.
It was about a week afterwards we arrived in the town, and put up at the inn. Our windows looked into the tan-yard, which was divided into two parts by a partition of planks ; in one half were many skins and hides, raw and tanned. Here was all the apparatus necessary to carry on a tannery, and it belonged to the widow. Puggie had died in the morning, and had been buried in this part of the yard : the grandchildren of the widow (that is, of the tanner's widow, for Puggie had never been married) filled up the grave, and it was a beautiful grave—it must have been quite pleasant to lie there.
The grave was bordered with pieces of flower-pots and strewn over with sand ; quite at the top they had stuck up half a beer bottle, with the neck upwards, and that was not at all allegorical.
The children danced round the grave, and the eldest of the boys among them, a practical youngster of seven years, made the proposition that there should be an exhibition of Puggie's burial-place for all who lived in the lane ; the price of admission was to be a trouser button, for every boy would be sure to have one, and each might also give one for a little girl. This proposal was adopted by acclamation.
And all the children out oL&ke fene—yes, even out of
TheTftleiafte aTthe'back—flocked to the place, and each
gave a button. Many were noticed to go about on that
afternoon with only one brace ; but then they had seen
Puggie's grave, and the sight was worth as much as that.
But in front of the tan-yard, close to the entrance, stood a little girl clothed in rags, very pretty to look at, with curly hair, and eyes so blue and clear that it was a pleasure to look into them. The child said not a word, nor did she cry ; but each time the little door was opened she gave |
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