David was six then.
"Why, daddy, he's asleep, and he won't wake up!" he had cried.

Then, after a gentle touch: "And he's cold--oh, so cold!" The father had hurried his son away at the time, and had evaded his questions; and David had seemed content.

But the next day the boy had gone back to the subject.

His eyes were wide then, and a little frightened.
"Father, what is it to be--dead ?" "What do you mean, David ?" "The boy who brings the milk--he had the squirrel this morning.

He said it was not asleep.