Sometimes it was only a handful of bright grasses gone to seed.
The doctor's neglected garden flaunted few blooms this autumn, but the
little fellow, grieving long and sorely, did all he could to show
respect to Matches's memory.
One day, nearly a month later, he went crying into his father's
office, saying that Matches was gone. Stuart and Sim Williams had dug
her up and sold her skeleton to a naturalist in the next block for
fifty cents. He had just heard of it. I never saw a child so excited.
He was sobbing so hard that he could not breathe except in great
choking gasps, and it was some time before his father could quiet him
enough to understand what he was talking about.
Oh, but Doctor Tremont was angry! And yet it did not sound so bad when
Stuart had explained it. He hadn't thought that he was doing anything
dishonest or unkind to Phil. He only thought what an easy way it would
be to make fifty cents. He didn't see how it could make any difference
to Phil, so long as he never found it out, and Sim had sworn not to
tell. The mound would still be there, and he could go on putting
flowers on it just the same. Sim was the one who had first spoken of
it, and Sim had half the money.
I was not in the room all of the time, so I cannot tell what passed
between Stuart and his father. I could hear the doctor's voice for a
long time, talking in low, deep tones, very earnestly.
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