"If Stephen's father will give him a basin, I will give you one, Audrey," said Granny Robin. "And I'll get you both an old sponge," said Mr. Robin, who was smoking his pipe in the window. What a scrubbing went on after that! Stephen's father, who was always pleased to do anything his poor little boy asked him, brought out soap and two scrubbing brushes, and the children worked away diligently for more than an hour. At the end of it, they were far from satisfied with their work. "The two grandchildren who died young won't come clean, Granny Robin," said little Stephen mournfully. "They're quite as nice as my John is," said Audrey. "Anyhow," she added more hopefully, "they're a deal cleaner than they were before. Now what's the next thing to be done?" "We must cut the long grass behind them," said Stephen, "and then we must dig up the grave in front of the stone. I'll get father's big scissors and my little spade." Father's big scissors cut the grass down very successfully, but Stephen's little spade refused to go into the hard ground. It had been trodden underfoot for many years, and it lay hard and dry and stony over the heads of the two grandchildren who died young. But at this point old Mr. Robin came to the rescue. He brought a large spade out of his house and dug the grave over for little Stephen, and then, after he had rested a little, he did the same for Audrey's John, as she called him. [Illustration: AT THIS POINT OLD MR. ROBIN CAME TO THE RESCUE.] "Wouldn't the wife be pleased if she saw we were doing it?" she said. "What wife?" asked Stephen. "This wife it says about in the hymn—" "'Go home, dear wife, and shed no tear.'" "I wonder if she did shed any," said Stephen. "I expect she did," said Audrey; "I wonder what has become of her. Do you think she will ever come to see how nice we have made her John's grave, Granny Robin?" "When did John die?" asked the old woman. "In 1793," said Audrey. "1793—a hundred years ago!" said Granny Robin. "Why, Audrey, the wife must have been dead long since!" "And she never sheds any more tears now," said Stephen, "because she's in heaven." "I hope so," said Granny Robin. "Does everybody go to heaven when they die?" asked the child. "No, my dear boy, not every one." "Shall I go there when I die, Granny Robin? I do hope I shall," said little Stephen. "I hope so too, my little man. The Lord wants to have you there," she said. "What is it like, Granny Robin?" asked Stephen. "We know very little about it, Stephen," said the old woman, "but we can't help thinking about it, and dreaming about it; and I always think of it as a beautiful garden, where the King walks with His friends. I may be wrong, Stephie, but that's what I always see in my mind when I think of it." "The two grandchildren who died young will like being in the garden," said Stephen. "Do you think they're glad they died young, Granny Robin?"