A thought seemed to strike Smith.

He dashed away a couple of tears; and stepping over a heap of loose earth as they began to shovel it in, he grasped Butterwick by the hand.

Butterwick gave him a sympathetic squeeze, and said, "Sorry for you, Smith; I am indeed! A noble woman and a good wife.

But bear up under it, bear up! Our loss, you know, is her gain." "Ah! she was indeed a woman in a thousand," responded Smith; "and now to think that she has gone--gone, left us for ever! But these afflictions must not make us forget the duty we owe to the living.

She has passed away from toil and suffering, but we still have much to do; and, Butterwick, I want to borrow your lawn-mower.