March 22.
Went out to street to visit Gibbie and see if he was really ill or not. Found him sitting by the fire. I don't know whether there is anything the matter or not. Went to see Elihu's little daughter Juno, who is in a very bad way, so weak and emaciated that it is painful to see her.
March 23.
Ransom came to-day for money due him for making the chimney for the house I had fixed for poor Elihu to move the remnant of his family back home. I can ill afford it, but I thought the march of death might be impeded by their coming back where they were born, and besides I can help them by sending things to the ailing ones.
Ransom talked a great deal. I sympathized with him in the death of his grandchildren, Estelle's children. They seem to have developed a new disease which has puzzled the doctors—some acute condition of the eyes, inflammation producing blindness and eventually death. We have had for some years a clever graduate of Johns Hopkins in this region who is making a study of malarial diseases. He went North three months ago, and one of the negroes telling me of an illness when they had to do without the doctor, there being none within fourteen miles, said with an air of intimate understanding:—
"We doctor gone fu' lam fu' scrape eye. 'E say him don' kno' nuff 'bout dat, say him neber larn fu' scrape eye yet."
Ransom talked on, giving me the news of the colored world and the crops, etc. It consumes much time, but I try to lend a willing ear. Finally he said:—
"Miss Pashuns, I got a great tenks to gi'e you. You don' me a great good. Maybe you don' fu'git, but I 'member. You kno' dat time I bin een sitch big distruss? I los' me wife, I los' me ox, I los' me cow, en I come to you fu' help, en you mek answer en say: 'Ransom,' says you, 'I ain't got no money to gi'e you, but I kin p'int you to help. Wot's happen to you is happen befo' to anoder puson. Now you go home en tek yo' Bible down en look fu' de book o' Job, en you mek a prayer to de Almighty to open yo' mind fu' onderstan', en you read de book o' Job en study ober him.'
"Dat was yo' discose to me, en I gon right home en I tek down me Bible, en I fin' de Book o' Job; en, Miss Pashuns, I was dat 'stonish! Dey was all me feelin's, en all me suffering, en eben all me wud, rite dey; en I read, en I read tell de kumfut kum to me. En, Miss Pashuns, ma'am, my min' bekum quiet en happy en I neber is fret sence. So dat wus a presunt yu mek me dat time abuv gol', kase 'e kyant loss."
I was greatly amazed and touched, and I said:—