But what death was I never had any very distinct idea, until
one day I climbed the low stone wall of the old burial-ground and
mingled with a group that were looking into a very deep, long,
narrow hole, dug down through the green sod, down through the brown
loam, down through the yellow gravel, and there at the bottom was
an oblong red box, and a still, sharp, white face of a young man
seen through an opening at one end of it. When the lid was closed,
and the gravel and stones rattled down pell-mell, and the woman in
black, who was crying and wringing her hands, went off with the
other mourners, and left him, then I felt that I had seen Death,
and should never forget him.

One other acquaintance I made at an earlier period of life than the
habit of romancers authorizes.--Love, of course.--She was a famous
beauty afterwards.--I am satisfied that many children rehearse
their parts in the drama of life before they have shed all their
milk-teeth.--I think I won't tell the story of the golden blonde.
--I suppose everybody has had his childish fancies; but sometimes
they are passionate impulses, which anticipate all the tremulous
emotions belonging to a later period. Most children remember
seeing and adoring an angel before they were a dozen years old.

[The old gentleman had left his chair opposite and taken a seat by
the schoolmistress and myself, a little way from the table.--It's
true, it's true,--said the old gentleman.--He took hold of a steel
watch-chain, which carried a large, square gold key at one end and
was supposed to have some kind of time-keeper at the other. With
some trouble he dragged up an ancient-looking, thick, silver,
bull's-eye watch. He looked at it for a moment,--hesitated,
--touched the inner corner of his right eye with the pulp of his
middle finger,--looked at the face of the watch,--said it was
getting into the forenoon,--then opened the watch and handed me the
loose outside case without a word.--The watch-paper had been pink
once, and had a faint tinge still, as if all its tender life had
not yet quite faded out. Two little birds, a flower, and, in small
school-girl letters, a date,--17 . .--no matter.--Before I was
thirteen years old,--said the old gentleman.--I don't know what was
in that young schoolmistress's head, nor why she should have done
it; but she took out the watch-paper and put it softly to her lips,
as if she were kissing the poor thing that made it so long ago.
The old ge