Jennie grasped her grandmother's hand firmly and dragged her from the house. From the servants' quarters came one long wail of prayer and lamentation mingled with shouts and exhortation. An old bed-ridden black woman, a fervent Methodist, raised a hymn:
"Better days are coming, we'll all go right!"
Jennie had reached the gate when she suddenly remembered her canary—a present Billy had given her on her eighteenth birthday. She rushed back into the house, snatched the cage up and started on the run again.
What was the use? It was impossible to take the bird. He would starve to death.
She quickly opened the cage, took him out and kissed his yellow head.
"Good-by, Jimmy darling!"
The tears would come in spite of all she could do.
"I hope you'll be happy!"
With quick decision she tossed him in the air.