Midnight must have passed but dawn had not come when April called Uncle Bill so distinctly Breeze woke up, leaped to his feet, but Uncle Bill was at April’s bed.
“Uncle,” April called again weakly, “you’s wake, enty?”
“Yes, son, I’m right ’side you.” Uncle Bill took both April’s hands and held them close, while he leaned low to hear every word the sick man spoke.
“My time’s come, Uncle. I ain’ got much longer——” April’s voice climbed up, then dropped.
Uncle Bill looked up at the rafters. “Do, Jedus, look down. Do have mercy!”
“Don’ stop to pray! De time’s too short now!” April’s short patience had come back, but his shortened breath held it in sudden check.
“Uncle—my feets is cold—I feels death up to my knees——”
“Son, you ain’ got no feets; neither knees! Is you forgot?”
“No, I ain’ forgot. But I feels ’em—dey’s cold—— Listen, Uncle——”
April’s sense had come back. He was in his right mind, even if he did feel the feet and legs that had been gone for months. His low husky words were earnest.