is a
pwivate funeral, the dead 'un is put into the ground and covered up,
and it don't have a gravestone; then of course, by and by, it is
forgot. You underland; don't you, father?"

"Bless me if I do," said Mr. Delaney, in a puzzled tone.

"But if it is a public funeral," continued Diana, strutting boldly
forward now, and throwing back her head in quite a martial attitude,
"why, then it's grand. There is a box just like a coffin, and cotton
wool--we steal the cotton wool most times. We know where Fortune has
got a lot of it put away. Iris does not think it quite right to steal,
but the rest of us don't mind. And we have banners, and Orion plays
the Jew's harp, and I beat the drum, and Iris sings, and Apollo digs
the grave, and the dead 'un is put into the ground, and we all cry, or
pretend to cry. Sometimes I do squeeze out a tiny tear, but I'm so
incited I can't always manage it, although I'm sure I'll cry when
Rub-a-Dub is put into the ground. Then afterwards there is a
tombstone, and Iris thinks of the insipcron. I spects we'll have a
beautiful insipcron for poor Rub-a-Dub, 'cos we all loved him so
much."

"Well, all this is very interesting, of course," said Mr. Delaney.
"But now we must be quick, because your Aunt Jane has come."

"Who's her?" asked Diana.

"A very good lady indeed--your aunt."

"What's an aunt?"

"A lady whom you ought to love very much."

"Ought I? I never love people I ought to love," said Diana firmly.
"Please, father, this is the dead-house. You can come right in if you
like, father, and see the dead 'uns; they are all lying on this shelf.
Most of them is to be buried pwivate, 'cos they are not our own pets,
you know; but Rub-a-Dub is sure to have a public funeral, and an
insipcron, and all the rest."

Mr. Delaney followed Diana into the small shed which the children
called the dead-house. He gazed solemnly at the shelf which she
indicated, and on which lay the several dead 'uns.

"Put your mouse down now," he said, "and come along back with me to
the house at once. You ought to have been in bed long ago."

Diana laid the mouse sorrowfully down in the midst of its dead
brethren, shut the door of the dead-house, and followed her father up
the garden path.

"It's a most beautiful night," she said, after a pause. "It's going to
be a starful night; isn't it, father?"

"Starful?" said Mr. Delaney.

"Yes; and when it is a starful night Orion can't sleep well, 'cos he
is a star