And all the children out of the lane-

And she delivered her papers, and took Puggie upon her arm. And

this is the first part of the story which might have been left out.

    PUGGIE DIED!! That's the second part.

    It was about a week afterwards we arrived in the town, and put

up at the inn. Our windows looked into the tan-yard, which was divided

into two parts by a partition of planks; in one half were many skins

and hides, raw and tanned. Here was all the apparatus necessary to

carry on a tannery, and it belonged to the widow. Puggie had died in

the morning, and was to be buried in this part of the yard; the

grandchildren of the widow (that is, of the tanner's widow, for Puggie

had never been married) filled up the grave, and it was a beautiful

grave- it must have been quite pleasant to lie there.

    The grave was bordered with pieces of flower-pots and strewn

over with sand; quite at the top they had stuck up half a beer bottle,

with the neck upwards, and that was not at all allegorical.

    The children danced round the grave, and the eldest of the boys

among them, a practical youngster of seven years, made the proposition

that there should be an exhibition of Puggie's burial-place for all

who lived in the lane; the price of admission was to be a trouser

button, for every boy would be sure to have one, and each might also

give one for a little girl. This proposal was adopted by acclamation.

    And all the children out of the lane- yes, even out of the

little lane at the back- flocked to the place, and each gave a button.

Many were noticed to go about on that afternoon with only one

suspender; but then they had seen Puggie's grave, and the sight was

worth much more.