“As for myself, I truly care not how long I may wait my Master’s call. For whatever pathway I may tread, in this world or the other, I know that He that is risen will go before me; so I fear not the way by land, however long, nor the swelling of Jordan.
“And either in the body or out of the body, God knoweth best. I shall see the fulfilment of His promises, I shall see the working out of His plan as it draws nearer and nearer to its perfect fulfilment.”
I dropped the hands that held that letter into my lap, and sot there in silence.
The sun had gone down, but the west wuz a glowin’ sea of pale golden light, and above it a large clear star shone like a soul lookin’ down into this world, a soul that had got above its troubles and perplexities, but yet one that took a near and dear interest in the old world yet.
Fur off, away over the peaceful green fields, I could hear the cow-bells a tinklin’ and a soundin’ low and sweet, as the herds wended their way home through the starry dusk.
Everything wuz quiet and serene.
And as I sot there my heart sort o’ waked up, and memories heavenly sweet, heavenly sad, come to thrill my soul as they must always do while I stay here below, till my day of pilgrimage is over.
But as I sot there with tears on my cheeks and a smile on my lips—for I wuzn’t onhappy, not at all, though the tears wuz in my eyes through thinkin’ of such a number of things—all at once a light low breeze swept up gently from the south or down from the glowin’ heavens—anyway it come—and swept lovingly and kind o’ lingeringly, as if with some old lovin’ memory, over the posies in the door-yard, and sort o’ waved the sweet bells of the mornin’ glories, and fell on my forehead and cheek like a soft, consolin’ little hand.
It sort o’ stayed there and caressed me, and brushed my hair back, and then touched my cheek, and then—wuz gone.