smelt of carbolic acid from that
spray-lamp, and Little Billie gettin' worse every day. Grandpa came in
onct, and went in and looked at him, and took his hand, and then just
walked out of the room, and stood out in the yard a bit, and bent down
and picked some leaves and began to pull 'em apart. I went out and said:
"Is he better, grandpa?" But he didn't answer for quite a spell. Then he
said--"The little feller's gone" and walked away.

So one night when he'd been sick about two weeks, it was about eight
o'clock, and all of a sudden Little Billie's eyes opened big. There had
been a lot of runnin' around that day; pa was cryin' and the doctor was
there all day. As I said, Little Billie opened his eyes big, and ma was
settin' right by the bed and pa was standin' there, and Myrtle and me
was standin' at the door lookin' in, for they wouldn't let us in the
room. Then all of a sudden Little Billie said, "Sing somethin', ma," and
she began to sing "Flee as a Bird to its Mountain," without her voice
breakin' or anything; but she'd only sang a little when she broke into a
great cry and pa cried, for Little Billie had died--just in a second, it
seemed. So Myrtle and me ran out-doors and began to cry, and I got down
in the grass and rolled and cried.

So I was lyin' there, lookin' up at the stars, quiet for a bit, and
pretty soon my pa called me, and said, "Come on with me." So we started
down town together to get the undertaker. And just as we got to Harris'
barn, there were clouds way up that looked like gates with the moon
shining between 'em, and I said to pa, "Is that where Little Billie went
through into heaven?" "Yep," said pa, just cold like, hard and cold as
if there warn't a thing to it, and he was half mad at me for askin' such
a question; then he went on: "Some day you'll understand--but life is
just a trouble and tangle. I've been messed up all my life; always
getting ready to do something, never really getting anything done. The
Civil War has made a lot of trouble--trouble and enemies for me, because
I didn't believe in it. And I've had to fight my way through, and work
like a slave and worry about money matters, and I've never found my
treasure any more than you boys have, or if I ever did, something took
it away, like you lost Nancy Allen's money. And now Little Billie is
dead, and I don't care what happens next."

Pa scared me with his talk; and when we got to the undertaker's, he
rattled the door, and old Mo