But which of us is sad now?
You see that I am smiling.' 'And so am I,' said the schoolmaster; 'smiling to think how often we shall laugh in this same place.

Were you not talking yonder ?' 'Yes,'the child rejoined.
'Of something that has made you sorrowful ?' There was a long pause.
'What was it ?' said the schoolmaster, tenderly.

'Come.

Tell me what it was.' 'I rather grieve--I do rather grieve to think,' said the child, bursting into tears, 'that those who die about us, are so soon forgotten.' 'And do you think,' said the schoolmaster, marking the glance she had thrown around, 'that an unvisited grave, a withered tree, a faded flower or two, are tokens of forgetfulness or cold neglect?
Do you think there are no deeds, far away from here, in which these dead may be best remembered?
Nell, Nell, there may be people busy in the world, at this instant, in whose good actions and good thoughts these very graves--neglected as they look to us--are the chief instruments.' 'Tell me no more,' said the child quickly.

'Tell me no more.