"Then I'll gather plenty of these beauties," said Eddie, stooping to pluck the lovely, many-hued blossoms that spangled the velvety grass at their feet in every direction. "How beautiful! how beautiful they are! and some of them so fragrant!" exclaimed Elsie, rapidly filling a pretty basket she carried in her hand. "How good God is to give us so many lovely things!" "Yes," returned Rosie, "it seems a pity to pluck them from their stems and make them wither and die; but there is such a profusion that what we take can hardly be missed." "And it's honoring our graves to scatter flowers over them: isn't it, Aunt Rosie?" Eddie asked. "Why do you say our graves? just as if you were already buried there," laughed Herbert. "Come," said Rosie, "I think we have enough now." "O Aunt Rosie, down in that little dell yonder they are still thicker than here, and more beautiful, I think," exclaimed Elsie. "But we have enough now; your basket is full. We'll go to that dell as we come back, and gather some to take home to our mammas." "Oh yes, that will be best," Elsie said, with cheerful acquiescence. "I shall go now and get some worthy to honor the dead," said Meta, starting off in the direction of the dell. "Meta likes to show her independence," said Rosie, smiling; "we won't wait for her." They climbed the hill, pushed open the gate of the little enclosure and passed in; very quietly, for their youthful spirits were subdued by the solemn stillness of the place, and a feeling of awe crept over them at thought of the dead whose dust lay sleeping there. Silently they scattered the flowers over each lowly resting place, reserving the most beautiful for that of her who was best known to them all--the first who had borne the name of Elsie Dinsmore. "Our dear grandma!" whispered Elsie and Eddie, softly. "I can't help feeling as if she was some relation to me too," said Rosie, "because she was my sister's mother, and papa's wife." The breeze carried the words to the ear of Uncle Joe, who was at work on the farther side of the enclosure, and had not till that moment been aware of the vicinity of the young people. He rose and came hobbling toward them, pulling off his hat and bowing respectfully. "Dat's so, Miss Rosie, ef you lubs de Lord, like she did, de dear young Missus dat lays heyah; for don't de 'postle say ob de Lord's chillen dat dey's all one in Christ Jesus? all one, Miss Rosie: heirs ob God and joint heirs wid Christ." "Yes, Uncle Joe, that is true." "Ah, she was lubly an' lubbed de Master well," he went on, leaning upon his staff and gazing fixedly at the name engraved on the stone, "She's not dead, chillen: her soul's wid de Lord in dat land ob light an' glory, an' de body planted heyah till de mornin' ob de resurrection." "And then she will rise more beautiful than ever," said little Elsie. "Mamma has told me about it. 'The dead in Christ shall rise first.'"