occurred in the case of men. Accordingly the three, without a moment's
hesitation, dragged the body along to the dust-heap, where they made a
deep trench, in which they placed it, covering it all over up to the
neck.

"There now," ejaculated Peggy, sitting down with a long puff to recover
her breath, "he'll lie very comfortable, whether or no."

"Couldn't lie better," said old Doubleyear, "even if he knew it."

The three now seated themselves close by, to await the result.

"I thought I'd a lost him," said Jem, "and myself too; and when I pulled
Daddy in arter me, I guv us all three up for this world."

"Yes," said Doubleyear, "it must have gone queer with us if Peggy had
not come in with the rake. How d'yee feel, old girl; for you've had a
narrow escape too. I wonder we were not too heavy for you, and so pulled
you in to go with us."

"The Lord be praised!" fervently ejaculated Peggy, pointing toward the
pallid face that lay surrounded with ashes. A convulsive twitching
passed over the features, the lips trembled, the ashes over the breast
heaved, and a low moaning sound, which might have come from the bottom
of the canal, was heard. Again the moaning sound, and then the eyes
opened, but closed almost immediately. "Poor dear soul!" whispered
Peggy, "how he suffers in surviving. Lift him up a little. Softly. Don't
be afeared. We're only your good angels, like--only poor
cinder-sifters--don'tee be afeared."

By various kindly attentions and man[oe]uvres such as these poor people
had been accustomed to practice on those who were taken out of the
canal, the unfortunate gentleman was gradually brought to his senses. He
gazed about him, as well he might--now looking in the anxious, though
begrimed, faces of the three strange objects, all in their "weeds" and
dust--and then up at the huge dust-heap, over which the moon was now
slowly rising.

"Land of quiet Death!" murmured he, faintly, "or land of Life, as dark
and still--I have passed from one into the other; but which of ye I am
now in, seems doubtful to my senses."

"Here we are, poor gentleman," cried Peggy, "here we are, all friends
about you. How did 'ee tumble into the canal?"

"The Earth, then, once more!" said the stranger, with a deep sigh. "I
know where I am, now. I remember this great dark hill of ashes--like
Death's kingdom, full of all sorts of strange things, and put to many
uses."

"Where do you live?" asked old Doubleyear; "shall we try and ta