rothers of Pity."

I did not like to read the burial service, for fear it should not be
quite right (especially for frogs; there were so many of them in summer,
and they were so horrid-looking, I used to bury several together, and
pretend it was the time of the plague); but I did not like not having
any service at all. So when I put on my cloak and mask, and took my
spade and the bier, I said, "Brothers, let us prepare to perform this
work of mercy," which is the first thing the real _Fratelli della
Misericordia_ say when they are going out. And when I buried the body I
said, "Go in peace," which is the last thing that they say. Godfather
Gilpin told me, and I learnt it by heart.

I enjoyed it very much. There were graves of beasts and birds who had
died without friends in the hedges and the soft parts of the fields in
almost all our walks. I never showed them to Nurse, but I often wondered
that she did not notice them. I always touched my hat when I passed
them, and sometimes it was very difficult to do so without her seeing
me, but it made me quite uncomfortable if I passed a grave without. When
I could not find any bodies I amused myself with making wreaths to hang
over particularly nice poor beasts, such as a bullfinch or a kitten.

I had been a Brother of Pity for several months, when a very curious
thing happened.

One summer evening I went by myself after tea into a steep little field
at the back of our house, with an old stone-quarry at the top, on the
ledges of which, where the earth had settled, I used to play at making
gardens. And there, lying on a bit of very stony ground, half on the
stones and half on the grass, was a dead robin-redbreast. I love robins
very much, and it was not because I wanted one to die, but because I
thought that if one did die, I should so like to bury him, that I had
wished to find a dead robin ever since I became a Brother of Pity. It
was rather late, but it wanted nearly an hour to my usual bedtime, so I
thought I would go home at once for my dress and spade and bier, and for
some roses. For I had resolved to bury this (my first robin-redbreast)
in a grave lined with rose-leaves, and to give him a wreath of
forget-me-nots.

Just as I was going I heard a loud buzz above my head, and something hit
me in the face. It was a beetle, whirring about in the air, and as I
turned to leave poor Robin the beetle sat down on him, on the middle of
his red breast, and by still hearing the b