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"Well, I never! And what may you two be doing out at this hour?" Diana gazed up at him. "I's going to the garding," she said. "I's to meet Iris in garding. We is to 'cide whether it's to be a pwivate or a public funeral." "Bless us and save us!" said the man. "Don't mind her," said Orion; "she's not well. She fell off a horse last night, and there's something gone wrong inside her head.
"Oh, father! you are ig'rant. At a pwivate funeral the poor dead 'un is just sewn up in dock leaves and stuck into a hole in the cemetery." "The cemetery! Good Heavens, child! do you keep a cemetery in the garden?" "Indeed we does, father. We have a very large one now, and heaps and heaps of gravestones. Apollo writes the insipcron. He is quite bothered sometimes.
Now please, Iris, which is to have a public funeral?" "Of course Rub-a-Dub must," answered Iris. "As to the others " "Don't you think that poor toad, Iris?" said Diana, wrinkling up her brows, and gazing anxiously at her sister. "The toad seems to me to be rather big to have only a pwivate funeral. We could scarcely get dock leaves enough."
"He'll pay for all he gets from me, I'll tell you that." Mr. Wyatt was ushered in; irreproachable, flawless, exquisite. Thompson kept his seat, fairly prickling with antagonism. The others rose with exemplary good breeding. "Aw!" said the newcomer, after an eloquent pause. "Mistah er Townsend, cawn I have a few moments of quite pwivate convehsation with you?"
We must get through the pwivate funerals as quick as possible this morning, and then we'll be weady for poor Rub-a-Dub." "Rub-a-Dub is to be buried exactly at eleven o'clock," said Iris. "We'll all wear mourning, course?" asked Diana. "Yes; black bows." "And are the dogs and the other animals to wear mourning?" "Black bows," repeated Iris. "That is most lovely and 'citing," said Diana.
He says the horrid work is give to him, carving the names on the stones and killing the half-dead 'uns, but course he has to do it 'cos Iris says so. Course we all obey Iris. When it is a pwivate funeral, the dead 'un is put into the ground and covered up, and it don't have a gravestone; then of course, by and by, it is forgot. You underland; don't you, father?" "Bless me if I do," said Mr.
Most of them is to be buried pwivate, 'cos they are not our own pets, you know; but Rub-a-Dub is sure to have a public funeral, and an insipcron, and all the rest." Mr. Delaney followed Diana into the small shed which the children called the dead-house. He gazed solemnly at the shelf which she indicated, and on which lay the several dead 'uns.
"I's had a beaut'ful s'eep, and there's not going to be a pwivate nor yet a public funeral." "No, no, Di!" said Iris, sobbing now as she spoke. "I's hung'y," said little Diana. "I'd like my supper awfu' much." The crisis was over, and Diana was to live. From that hour she recovered, slowly but surely.
"I want to put Rub-a-Dub into the dead-house." "The dead-house, Diana? What do you mean?" "It is the house where we keep the poor innocents, and all the other creatures what get deaded," said Diana. "We keep them there until Iris has settled whether they are to have a pwivate or a public funeral. Iris does not know yet about Rub-a-Dub. He was quite well this morning.
The child was tossing from side to side, her big eyes were wide open; she was gazing straight before her, talking eagerly and incessantly. "Is it to be a pwivate funeral?" she said, when Fortune entered the room, and, falling on her knees, clasped the hot little hands in hers. "Oh, my little darling!" said the good woman, "and have I really found you at last?"
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