Poor little Kitty died. Little Mary cried, as if her heart would break. Kitty was her only pet, and one which she had loved very dearly. She asked her brother George, if he would not make a coffin, and dig a grave to bury it in. Her brother pitied her distress and readily promised to do as she wished. At last the day came, on which it was to be put in the cold damp earth, and all the children attended the funeral, sobbing, and feeling very solemn, as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave prepared for its reception. All was over and with slow and reluctant steps they departed for home, little Mary, weeping violently.