prayers at all this weather, Fly thought; for, of course,
nobody ever died except in winter, when the wind howled round the house
and rain lashed the window-panes. Still, she liked to be on the safe
side. She was very proud of her prayer: the last petition she had
thought of in the winter, when Mrs Darragh had been ill. She had
reminded Almighty God that they had had a father and an uncle die,
while the Bogues had never had a death in their family. Therefore it
must be Mrs Bogue's turn next. Honeybird, the only one to whom she had
told this petition, was so pleased with it that she prayed it too.
Both children chuckled over the wisdom of it; for Mrs Bogue, in spite
of her eighty years, was a strong old woman--Lull had said she would
see ninety--so their turn could not come for years yet.

"It's the awful thing that people has to die at all." Jane's voice
came from the schoolroom. "An it's quare that God thinks anybuddy'd
like to go to heaven."

"Well, I niver want to go," said Patsy. "I'd hate the ould gold street
an' glass sea; I'd far rather have a nice salt-water sea, with crabs
an' herrin's in it."

Fly stood in the doorway. "What's happened?" she said.

"Ould Mrs Bogue's dead," said Jane, with her mouth full of porridge. A
sharp pang of fear seized Fly. A moment before she had been altogether
happy, now the light seemed to have gone from the day. She looked at
Honeybird, but Honeybird was taking her breakfast calmly; she did not
realise what this meant. Their safeguard was gone. If Mrs Bogue had
died so suddenly and unexpectedly might it not mean that Almighty God
wanted their turn to come quickly? She swallowed her breakfast, and
went out into the garden. She could not go to the picnic with the
others; she was too miserable for that. Why, oh, why did God make
people only to kill them again? Why did He want them to go to such a
dull place as heaven? Honeybird's voice called her from the garden
gate, and the next minute Honeybird came running down the grassy path.

"Why didn't ye go for the picnic?" Fly asked.

"'Cause I know'd ye'd be sorry about ould Mrs Bogue," said Honeybird,
sitting down beside her. "I'm thinkin' mebby Mrs Bogue wasn't as
strong as we thinked. It might 'a' been better to say Mr Rannigan."

"That wouldn't 'a' been fair," said Fly; "he had a sister die. It was
ould Mrs Bogue's turn right enough, only it come far sooner that I
thought."

"What are ye goin' to do?" H