It was only a little out of our way, and we could stop there on our return.
Almost at once we came to the cemetery, a crude enclosure, fenced with rough pickets, evidently split with the ax.

Mr.Brooks led me to the spot.
Weeds abounded everywhere.

The grasshoppers were flying before our steps.

A long snake glided away from my feet as I stepped near the yellow clay which tented the body of my father ...

and Zoe's father ...