Little Dot by O.F. Walton

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!