Victor and Genieve thought everything of him from the first time they laid eyes on him. And they couldn’t do enough for him seemingly. They had heard about his life and labor amongst their own people, and they tried in every way to show their gratitude and affection.
Victor and he talked together for hours, and so did he and Genieve about the plans for the colony. And first I knew, Cousin John Richard told Josiah and me that he had made up his mind to go with them to Africa.
The Doctor had told him that a long sea voyage would be the best of anything for his lungs. And so, as he wuz bound to spend his life for this people, I couldn’t see, and Josiah couldn’t, why it shouldn’t be in Africa as well as America, specially as he had a better chance to live by goin’ there.
And so we gin our consents in our own minds, and showed our two willingnesses to him, and the matter wuz settled.
He had only two children left now, and they wuz married and settled down in homes of their own, and in a good business. So he had no hamperin’ ties to bind him to this land. And he felt that the Lord wuz a pintin’ out to him the path of Duty over the sea.
And I wuzn’t the one to dispute him—no, indeed! And I felt that his calm good sense and undaunted Christian spirit and Gospel teachings would be a perfect boon to the colony.
So it wuz settled. And I imegiatly went to work, Maggie and I, to make him a full dozen of shirts, twelve day ones and six nights.
And we prepared him a better assortment of socks and handkerchiefs, and collars, and cuffs, and such than he had ever dremp of, I’ll venture to say, sence he lost his companion, anyway.
Wall, it wuzn’t more’n several days after this that the relation of Maggie’s—Senator Coleman—bein’ sot free from hampers, writ agin, and also telegrafted, that he would be at the station that day at five o’clock.