“I guess that’s about the size of it.”

 

“Why didn’t you say so before?” she said, laughing gleefully. “You gave me such

a fright. Why, of course, now as long as we die we’ll be with mother again.”

 

“Yes, you will, dearie.”

 

“And you too. I’ll tell her how awful good you’ve been. I’ll bet she meets us at

the door of Heaven with a big pitcher of water, and a lot of buckwheat cakes,

hot, and toasted on both sides, like Bob and me was fond of. How long will it be

first?”

 

“I don’t know—not very long.” The man’s eyes were fixed upon the northern

horizon. In the blue vault of the heaven there had appeared three little specks

which increased in size every moment, so rapidly did they approach. They

speedily resolved themselves into three large brown birds, which circled over

the heads of the two wanderers, and then settled upon some rocks which

overlooked them. They were buzzards, the vultures of the west, whose coming is

the forerunner of death.

 

“Cocks and hens,” cried the little girl gleefully, pointing at their ill-omened

forms, and clapping her hands to make them rise. “Say, did God make this

country?”

 

“In course He did,” said her companion, rather startled by this unexpected