The badger put his head out of the hole and said, "What do you want, my brother?",
"I wish you would not talk of being buried," says Mona, with a sob. "There is no comfort in the tomb: there our dust may mingle, but in heaven our souls shall meet, I trust,—I hope.",
"I wonder," she says to herself, softly, "whether he will be with me at the usual hour to-morrow, or,—a little earlier!".
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