The worst of the mask was that it was a funny one,
with a big nose; but it hid my face all the same, and when you get
inside a mask you can feel quite grave whatever it's painted like.
I had never had so happy a summer before as the one when I was a Brother
of Pity. I heard Nurse saying to Mrs. Jones that "there was no telling
what would keep children out of mischief," for that I "never seemed to
be tired of that old black rag and that ridiculous face."
But it was not the dressing-up that pleased me day after day, it was the
chance of finding dead bodies with no friends to bury them. Going out is
quite a new thing when you have something to look for; and Godfather
Gilpin says he felt just the same in the days when he used to collect
insects.
I found a good many corpses of one sort and another: birds and mice and
frogs and beetles, and sometimes bigger bodies--such as kittens and
dogs. The stand of my old wooden horse made a capital thing to drag them
on, for all the wheels were there, and I had a piece of blue
cotton-velvet to put on the top, but the day I found a dead mole I did
not cover him. I put him outside, and he looked like black velvet lying
on blue velvet. It seemed quite a pity to put him into the dirty ground,
with such a lovely coat.
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