Then, while Mrs. Salyer and Keats went out to milk after supper, Hen and Susanna and Neely and I washed up the dishes; and while we were at it, Hiram and Jason were pulled apart, Jason with a gouged eye and a bitten arm, Hiram with a bloody nose and a raked shin. Then, Mrs. Salyer and Keats returning, and everybody being very sleepy indeed, we all went to bed in "t'other house," the little girls and I in one bed, Mrs. Salyer, Sammy and Keats in a second, and Hiram, Hen and Jason in the third (Hen in the middle). We had some general conversation after retiring, and it was all very happy and sociable. And of course Ponto slept in the room, too, and when, faithful guardian, he was not running to the door to growl at imaginary intruders, he was thumping his tail on the floor, or turning round and round before the fire to settle himself to his satisfaction. Saturday morning, Keats, Hen and even I tried to beg off from the funeral occasion; but of course it was useless; and there was a busy time getting ready to start. A little past noon, I, on Mandy, with Susanna behind me, and Mrs. Salyer on Charlie, with Sammy before and Neely behind, reached the top of Bee Tree Gap, and looked down into the valley on the far side, the boys racing ahead of us. On a hill-shoulder below, grave-houses were visible, and people and nags were moving about. Still farther down the valley, Mrs. Salyer showed me Emmeline's lonely little home. Emmeline, she said, had died a year and three months before, during the typhoid that took off Mr. Salyer, leaving a virtuous and pious memory, seven small children, and a deeply-stricken "widow." Before we reached the burying-ground, the services began with a long-drawn funeral song, that came up to us in snatches. Very mournful and beautiful the tune was, embodying the very spirit of loneliness, sorrow and resignation. As we drew nearer, Mrs. Salyer joined in the refrain, and I caught some of the words, I'm a long time travelling here below, A long time travelling away from my home. A long time travelling here below To lay this body down! "A long time travelling" indeed it seems to those of us bereft as she is, and as I am. The inexpressible sweep, dignity and pathos of the song will haunt me as long as I live. We joined the crowd among the grave-houses. In front of the newest of these, saplings had been laid across logs to make seats; and the people who could not be accommodated here sat on the ground or walked quietly about. Even the numerous babies were quiet, as if knowing that a funeral occasion demanded it.