Frank saw that it now already fatigued Staza to shovel out the earth from such a depth, he took her shovel and said “Give it me. I also wish to do something for grandfather.” He stepped into Staza’s place, and shovelled out the earth. Staza sat beside the grave, and looked to see whether he was an adept.
And now it seemed to Frank as though the grave was deprived of its horror with every shovelful of earth which he flung out. So when Bartos said ‘Done!’ Frank had already no wish to depart; he leant on his spade and said to Staza “So, then, come to me faithful spirit!”
Bartos shouldered his implements and paying no further heed to the children, betook himself home.
“Do you know what?” said Staza, “I will sow clover on your grandfather’s grave.”
“Why?” inquired Frank.
“But dost thou not know? And yet I know that thy grandfather loved bees—he had so many hives. Bees fly to clover, they will speed hither to grandfather’s grave, and grandfather will tell them the message he wishes them to give to thee.”
“Sow it!” said Frank; and now he longed for the clover to overgrow the grave, and that the bees might fly hither.
Then Staza sprang into the grave, seated herself in one corner, and Frank seated himself in the other.
