OLD SOLOMON'S HOPE
THERE was a little grave to be dug that day, and it was the hardest
task old Solomon ever had. The earth seemed to him as heavy as lead
that morning; many a time he stopped and moaned, as if he could work no
more. He sometimes looked up, as if he half expected to see his little
Dot standing at the top of the grave. He almost thought he heard her
merry laugh, and her dear little voice saying, "Won't you say my little
prayer, Mr. Solemn?"
But this was his little Dot's grave, and she was dead. It could not be
true; oh, it could not be true!
But, as the old man toiled on, a happier thought stole into his old
soul, and he thought he saw his little Dot, dressed in white, and
walking with the angels, near the dear Lord, in the home above the blue
sky. And it did old Solomon good to think of this.
The grave was close to Lilian's; side by side they were to lie, for so
Lilian's father had ordered it. For he loved little Dot for the care
she had taken of his child's grave.
It was the day of the funeral—little Dot's funeral. Old Solomon was
wandering among the trees of the cemetery, and every now and then
stooping wearily to gather something from the ground. He was getting
daisies to put in his little dear's grave. They were very scarce now,
and it gave him much trouble to collect them, and they looked very poor
and frost-bitten when he put them together, but they were the best he
could find, and, with trembling hands, he threw them into the little
grave.
It was a very quiet funeral. The gentleman and lady and their two
little girls came to it, and Dot's father and mother, and old Solomon
did his sorrowful part.
And they looked down into the grave at the little white coffin lying
amongst the daisies. Then all was over, and the robin sang his song on
little Dot's grave.
Lilian's father ordered a stone exactly like that which he had put to
his own child—a small white marble stone, and on the stone were these
words—
"LITTLE DOT,"
and underneath was Dot's text:
"WASH ME, AND I SHALL BE WHITER THAN SNOW."
Old Solomon toiled on, often lonely and sad. The neighbours said he was
getting childish, for he often fancied that his little Dot was alive,
and he would look up from the graves and smile at her, as he used to
do when she stood at the top. And he often thought he heard her little
voice whispering among the trees of the cemetery. And the words she
whispered were always those of her little prayer.
So Solomon grew to think of her as alive, and not dead, and it
comforted his old heart.
"For," said he, "it will not be very long before I shall see her again."
Thus Solomon was troubled no longer at the thought of his own grave, or
of who should dig it.
And the people who came to the cemetery often looked at the two little
graves, and read the two lovely texts.
THE END
Printed by
MORRISON AND GIBB LIMITED
Edinburgh