it made her feel wicked to
think of fairy stories _that_ day, though she couldn't tell why.

When the children went into the house at supper-time it was very
still. Nobody was to be seen but aunt Madge, who gave them some bowls
of bread and milk, and said the family had taken tea.

A kind of awe crept over Grace as she looked at the tearful face of
her auntie, and she dared not ask about the baby.

After they had finished their supper, aunt Madge said, "You may all
follow me into the nursery; I have something to tell you.--Our dear
little pale baby, who has been sick day and night all this long
summer, will never feel sick or cry any more. God has taken him to
heaven to be a little angel."

All but Prudy knew that she spoke of death. Grace flung herself on the
floor and wept aloud. Horace rushed up stairs into the back chamber,
without saying a word to any body; and Susy buried her face in the
sofa-pillows, whispering, "O God, don't let it be so; it isn't true,
is it?"

But Prudy only opened her blue eyes in wonder. When she saw the pure
little form of the baby lying on the bed, in a soft crimson dress, she
smiled and said,--

"O, he looks as if he was asleep, and he is asleep!"

"But see, he doesn't breathe," whispered Susy.

"No," said Prudy, "he don't breathe because he don't want to. He was
sick, and it made him too tired to _breathe_ so much."

Why every body should weep was more than Prudy could tell; but she
thought it must be right to do as the rest did, and by bedtime she was
sobbing as if her heart would break. She afterwards said to Susy,--

"I tried as hard as I could to cry, and when I got to crying I cried
as tight as I could spring!"

But when aunt Madge wanted to put Prudy to bed she was unwilling to
go. "O, no," said she, "I want to wait and see the baby go up!"

"See what?" said aunt Madge.

"See God take the baby up to heaven," sobbed the child.

"But he is in heaven _now_," replied aunt Madge.

"O, no, he hasn't gone a single step. I saw him on the bed. They
haven't put his wings on yet!"

Aunt Madge was puzzled, and hardly knew what to say, for it is not
easy to make such very little children know the difference between the
body, which goes back to dust, and the spirit, which goes to God who
gave it.

She talked a long while, but I doubt if Prudy understood one word, for
when the casket which held the form of little Harry was buried in the
garden, she cried because the earth wa