Wall, they jest about worshipped that child, the hull flock did, and they loved their minister and his wife; and men love bravery and admire courage, and they felt the power and pathos of the scene, and the tears stood in many a eye that had flashed with threatenin’ anger only a minute before.
And so that storm lulled away and died down.
(I have been leadin’ this horse behind the wagon, as it were.) Maggie told me this little incident afterwards (and now to hitch my horses agin where they belong, side by side, and in front of the mule) (metafor).
THE OLD NEGRO.
After the buildings wuz destroyed and the threats aginst them so awful and skairful, this poor man and his sick wife and child jest run for their lives; nobody dast to take ’em in; they went from place to place, only to be driven away, in the peltin’ storm too, till at last they found a poor refuge in a black man’s cabin, where the baby died the next day. But so bitter wuz the feelin’ aginst these teachers that this black man who took them in wuz found lyin’ dead a few days after with a bullet through his heart.
Finally, they succeeded in gettin’ to the cars and gettin’ back North, where the wife died within a week’s time.
And the sorrow over this loss, the exposure and agitation of that time, and the failure of his life plans jest killed that good man too. He died broken-hearted within a year.
All they had meant, all they had wanted wuz to carry out the Saviour’s principle, “Carry the Gospel to every creature.”