there was a little girl
in heaven that looked just like that. She had come the year before,
and had asked them to let her brother in, who would certainly inquire
after her. But the boy could not go in. I have already said why."

"Had the little girl always learned her lessons?"

"Of course! Don't you see she had? Let Walter go on with his story!"

"It was sad that he could not get to see his sister any more. He felt
that it hadn't really been worth the trouble to die. 'Oh, just let
me in!' he begged the gentleman at the door----"

"At the gate!" corrected several simultaneously, who, though untouched
by the sublimity of Walter's conception of death, were offended by the
commonplaceness of the word door. But such things happen frequently.

"All right!" said Walter. He was ashamed that he had offended against
propriety. "The gentleman at the gate said, 'No!' and then the poor
boy returned to the earth."

"That won't do," cried the philosophical contingency, "whoever is
dead remains dead."

"Don't interrupt him. Of course it's only a story!"

Walter continued: "He returned to the earth and learned French. Then
he appeared at the gate again and said, 'Oui, Monsieur!' but it did
no good; he was not admitted."

"I should think not; he ought to have said: 'j'aime, tu aimes.'"

"I don't know anything about that," Walter replied.

"Then he went to the earth again and learned his lessons till he
could say them backwards. He did this for the keeper of the gate;
but all this did no good; he was not allowed to go in."

"Of course not," cried one of the wise ones, "to get to heaven you
must be confirmed. Had he been confirmed?"

"No. That's the reason it was so difficult. Then he tried something
else. He said that he was engaged to his sister."

"Just like Betty," cried Emma.

"Yes, like Betty--and that he loved her and wanted to marry her. But
it was all of no use; they wouldn't let him into heaven.

"Finally he didn't dare go to the gate any more, for fear the keeper
would get angry at him."

"And then? What happened?"

"I don't know," Walter stuttered. "I don't know what he ought to do
to get to heaven."

Walter knew the rest of the story very well, but he couldn't put it
into words. This was shown in a peculiar manner an hour later.

On the way home the party was almost run over by a wagon just as
they were crossing a bridge. In the commotion Emma slipped under the
railing and fell into the stream. Someb