A soldier nurse approached the cottage and “aunty,” who seemed to be on good terms with all, interceded for her guest. “Dis ya chile done cum down fo a wok; he done tiad out, yo’ help him back, won’t yo’, massa?” And he did.
“Dinah, Dinah, look at dat ar po’ white chile; he bleached so white as linen.”
CHAPTER X.
A SEQUEL.
At the age of thirteen, the writer attended a series of religious meetings and became profoundly convicted of his obligation to accept Jesus Christ as his personal Savior. Lack of moral courage held him back from an open confession. He compromised by secretly pledging to become a Christian after he had entered upon his chosen profession of law. Thereupon his convictions ceased and the matter was forgotten.
Now, in his illness in Andersonville prison, answer to prayer, as evidenced in the instance of Providence Spring, turned his attention to his own moral necessities. Well might this introspection occur; for, in this month of August, 1864, his prospects of surviving the surrounding conditions were swiftly diminishing. Blood poisoning, in the form of scurvy, had settled in his face. He tottered from weakness. His long days and weary nights were spent on his blanket, spread on the ground, just within the little shelter tent that was wedged in among others. When eyes were closed to awful sights, the ears must listen to dreadful sounds. As vitality was ebbing away, and the things of time and sense were withdrawing, the realities of eternity seemed to come to the front. Truly it was time to “prepare to meet thy God.” This must be done at once. The reading of the little pocket testament began anew, and the thought was awakened to pray for self; when suddenly there came to mind the forgotten covenant of seven years ago, “I will be a Christian after I become a lawyer.”