As I said, he smiled as he see Josiah and me advancin’ onto him, and he held out his weak hands, and took holt of ourn, and kep’ ’em in hisen for some time, and sez he:
“I am glad—glad to see you.”
He wuz interrupted anon, and even oftener, by his awful cough and short, painful breathin’. But he gin us to understand that he wuz dretful glad to see us once more before he passed away.
He wuzn’t afraid to die—no, indeed! There wuz a deep, sweet smile in his eyes, and his lips seemed to hold some happy and divine secret as he sez:
“I am glad to go home; I am glad to rest.”
But I sez in a cheerful axent, “Cousin John Richard, you hain’t a goin’ to die;” sez I, “By the help of God and my good spignut syrup I believe you will be brung up agin.”
But he shet up his eyes. And I see plain, by the look of his face, that though he wuz willin’ to live and work if it wuz God’s will, he wuz still more ready to depart and be with Christ, which he felt would be fur better.
But it wuzn’t my way to stand and argue with a sick man back and forth as to whether he wuz a goin’ to die or not.
“BOY LAUGHED.”