Freda sat in a corner all by herself and felt miserably outside of everything . She had no part or lot in Graveyard Day . `` Are you going to plant anything , Freda ? '' asked Nan , with a wink at the others . Freda shook her head mutely . `` Freda ca n't plant anything , '' said Winnie Bell cruelly , although she did not mean to be cruel . `` She has n't got a grave . '' Just then Freda felt as if her gravelessness were a positive disgrace and crime , as if not to have an interest in a single grave in North Point cemetery branded you as an outcast forever and ever . It very nearly did in North Point . The other little girls pitied Freda , but at the same time they rather looked down upon her for it with the complacency of those who had been born into a good heritage of family graves and had an undisputed right to celebrate Graveyard Day . Freda felt that her cup of wretchedness was full . She sat miserably on the fence while the other girls ran off to play , and she walked home alone at night . It seemed to her that she could not bear it any longer . Freda was ten years old . Four years ago Mrs. Wilson had taken her from the orphan asylum in town . Mrs. Wilson lived just this side of the hill from the graveyard , and everybody in North Point called her a `` crank . '' They pitied any child she took , they said . It would be worked to death and treated like a slave . At first they tried to pump Freda concerning Mrs. Wilson 's treatment of her , but Freda was not to be pumped . She was a quiet little mite , with big , wistful dark eyes that had a disconcerting fashion of looking the gossips out of countenance .
But if Freda had been disposed to complain , the North Point people would have found out that they had been only too correct XXXXX their predictions .
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