All now had withdrawn from the table, except Emma, Mary, Joshua Cheever, and little Edwin. "Your milk is very nice, Mary," said Eddy, "but it does not cure my thirst; O I do want some cold water." "There is none nearer than the pond," said Joshua, "unless you go to Graffam's; but they are so piggish, I would choke before I would ask water of them. The last time I went there, the old woman sent one of the young ones to tell me that the village folks were an unmannerly set, and she wanted them to keep their distance. I told the girl to give my love to her mother, and tell her that she was the sweetest poppy upon the plain. So you see that it wouldn't do for me to go there again; I might get my head cracked with one of Graffam's rum-jugs." "I am not afraid to go," said Mary. "I have no doubt but that the blueberry parties are a trouble to Mrs. Graffam." "_Mrs_. Graffam!" exclaimed Joshua, laughing. "Nobody else calls her anything but Moll, and her husband, Pete." Emma now lifted Edwin from his seat upon the rock, and taking his hand, while Mary brought the bright dipper, they started for the log-house, which looked in the distance like a black stump. "It is loving your neighbor _better_ than yourself,"--said the little boy, looking smilingly up into Emma's face,--"I am sure it is, to come all this way with me." "Well, we ought to love our neighbor better than ourselves," replied Mary, who was walking behind. "We shall, Eddy, if we are like----" "Like Jesus?" asked Eddy. "Yes," said Mary. "He didn't love himself at all; but he loved us, even unto death." "How wonderful!" said Emma. "Talk some more about him, Mary dear, if you please." But they were now at the poor door, which swung upon its wooden hinges: they were about to knock, when they saw a forlorn-looking woman come from a dark closet, with a sick child in her arms. "Poor little thing!" said Mary, going toward her.[*] "What is the matter with him, Mrs. Graffam?" [Footnote *: See Frontispiece.] "He is very sick," she replied, glancing from her to the door, when Emma courtesied politely, and Edwin pulled off his hat. "Walk in," said Mrs. Graffam; "my children are all out upon the plain, but you can help yourselves to seats." Then turning to Mary she said again, "He is very sick, and I cannot tell what is the matter with him, unless it is want of----." Here she paused, and after a time added, "He is losing all his flesh, poor thing!" "Yes," said Mary, "he looks as my dear little sister did just before she died!" "When did she die?" asked Mrs. Graffam. "Just as the grass was getting green," said Mary. "It was a fit time for her to die, Mrs. Graffam; for she was born in the spring, and it seemed exactly as though the sweet bud had to go back to the summer-land before it could bloom." "And if your little baby dies, Mrs. Graffam," said Eddy, "he will be a flower in God's garden; won't he, Mary?"