nd gathered to their graves. How many of the mounds in that old
churchyard where she had lately strayed, grew green above the graves of
children! And though she thought as a child herself, and did not
perhaps sufficiently consider to what a bright and happy existence
those who die young are borne, and how in death they lose the pain of
seeing others die around them, bearing to the tomb some strong
affection of their hearts (which makes the old die many times in one
long life), still she thought wisely enough, to draw a plain and easy
moral from what she had seen that night, and to store it, deep in her
mind.

Her dreams were of the little scholar: not coffined and covered up, but
mingling with angels, and smiling happily. The sun darting his
cheerful rays into the room, awoke her; and now there remained but to
take leave of the poor schoolmaster and wander forth once more.

By the time they were ready to depart, school had begun. In the
darkened room, the din of yesterday was going on again: a little
sobered and softened down, perhaps, but only a very little, if at all.
The schoolmaster rose from his desk and walked with them to the gate.

It was with a trembling and reluctant hand, that the child held out to
him the money which the lady had given her at the races for her
flowers: faltering in her thanks as she thought how small the sum was,
and blushing as she offered it. But he bade her put it up, and
stooping to kiss her cheek, turned back into his house.

They had not gone half-a-dozen paces when he was at the door again; the
old man retraced his steps to shake hands, and the child did the same.

'Good fortune and happiness go with you!' said the poor schoolmaster.
'I am quite a solitary man now. If you ever pass this way again,
you'll not forget the little village-school.'

'We shall never forget it, sir,' rejoined Nell; 'nor ever forget to be
grateful to you for your kindness to us.'

'I have heard such words from the lips of children very often,' said
the schoolmaster, shaking his head, and smiling thoughtfully, 'but they
were soon forgotten. I had attached one young friend to me, the better
friend for being young--but that's over--God bless you!'

They bade him farewell very many times, and turned away, walking slowly
and often looking back, until they could see him no more. At length
they had left the village far behind, and even lost sight of the smoke
among the trees. They trudged onward now,