There he lay, with head outstretched, as if his last desire had been to get as near them as possible, his last breath spent in thanking them. They liked to think that he crept there to say good by, and took great comfort in the memory of all they had done for him. They cried over him tenderly, even while they agreed that it was better for him to die; and then they covered him with green boughs, after Ned had smoothed his coat for the last time, and Posy cut a lock from his mane to make mourning rings of. Calvin said he would attend to the funeral, and went off to dig the grave in a lonely place behind the sand-bank. Ned declared that he could not have his horse dragged away and tumbled into a hole, but must see him buried in a proper manner; and mamma, with the utmost kindness, said she would provide all that was needed. The hour was set at four in the afternoon, and the two little mourners, provided with large handkerchiefs, Ned, with a black bow on his arm, and Posy in a crape veil, went to drop a last tear over their departed friend. At the appointed time Calvin appeared, followed by Mr. White, with a drag drawn by black Bill. This delicate attention touched Neddy; for it might have been bay Kitty, and that would have marred the solemnity of the scene. As the funeral train passed the house on its way down the lane, mamma, with another crape veil on, came out and joined the procession, so full of sympathy that the children felt deeply grateful. The October woods were gay with red and yellow leaves, that rustled softly as they went through the wood; and when they came to the grave, Ned thanked Calvin for choosing such a pretty place. A pine sighed overhead, late asters waved beside it, and poor Major's last bed was made soft with hemlock boughs. When he was laid in it, mamma bade them leave the old waterproof that had served for a pall still about him, and then they showered in bright leaves till nothing was visible but a glimpse of the dear white tail. The earth was thrown in, green sods heaped over it, and then the men departed, feeling that the mourners would like to linger a little while. As he left, Mr. White said, with the same gravity which he had preserved all through the scene,-- "You are welcome to the use of the team and my time, ma'am. I don't wish any pay for 'em; in fact, I should feel more comfortable to do this job for old Major quite free and hearty." Mamma thanked him, and when he was gone, Ned proposed that they should sing a hymn, and Posy added, "They always sing, 'Sister, thou art mild and lovely' at funerals, you know." Mamma with difficulty kept sober at this idea but suggested the song about "Good old Charlie," as more appropriate. So it was sung with great feeling, and then Posy said, as she "wiped her weeping eyes,"-- "Now, Ned, show mamma our eppytap." "She means eppytarf," explained Ned, with a superior air, as he produced a board, on which he had printed with India ink the following words,--