I think we liked the same things a good deal, Susan,
don't you? And I think you would like me to go and see the old
gentleman now, because he has so many dandelions; and I really must
pull them up. You know I am never sure that he isn't your grandfather.
So many of you are related here, it is a regular family party.
Good-by, Susan dear."
She bent over, and touched the stone lightly with her lips, then
passed on to another which was half buried in the earth, the last
letters of the inscription being barely discernible.
"How do you do, Mr. Bascom?" said this singular child, laying her hand
respectfully on the venerable headstone. "Are your dandelions very
troublesome this morning, dear sir?"
Her light fingers hovered over the mound like butterflies, and she
began pulling up the dandelion roots, and smoothing down the grass
over the bare places. Then she fell to work on the inscription, which
was an elaborate one, surmounted by two cherubs' heads, one resting on
an hour-glass, the other on a pair of cross-bones. Along every line
she passed her delicate fingers, not because she did not know every
line, but that she might trace any new growth of moss or lichen.
"Farewell this flesh, these ears, these eyes,
Those snares and fetters of the mind
My God, nor let this frame arise
Till every dust be well refined.
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