“The reason is not far to seek,” I answered, more to myself than her, as I ran down the stairs to discomfit that old man. At the open door, with the hot wind tossing worn white curls and parching shriveled cheeks, now wearily raising his battered hat, stood my dear Uncle Sam, the Sawyer.
“Lor' a massy! young lady, be you altogether daft? In my best of days, never was I lips for kissing. And the bootifulest creatur—Come now, I ain't saved your life, have I now?”
“Yes, fifty times over—fifty thousand times. Uncle Sam, don't you know Erema?”
“My eyes be dashed! And dashed they be, to forget the look of yours, my dearie. Seven days have I marched without thanking the Lord; and hot coals of fire has He poured upon me now, for His mercy endureth forever. To think of you—to think of you—as like my own child as could be—only of more finer breed—here standing in front of me, like this here! There! I never dreamed to do that again, and would scorn a young man at the sight of it.”
The Sawyer was too honest to conceal that he was weeping. He simply turned his tanned and weathered face toward the door-post, not to hide his tears, but reconcile his pride by feigning it. I felt that he must be at very low ebb, and all that I had seen of other people's sorrow had no power to assuage me. Inside the door, to keep the hot wind out and hide my eyes from the old man's face, I had some little quiet sobs, until we could both express ourselves.
“It is poor Firm, the poor, poor lad!—oh, what hath happened him? That I should see the day!”
Uncle Sam's deep voice broke into a moan, and he bowed his rough forehead on his arm, and shook. Then I took him by the sleeve and brought him in.
“Not dead—poor Firm, your only one—not dead?” as soon as words would come, I asked, and trembled for the opening of his lips.
“Not dead—not quite; but ten times worse. He hath flown into the face of the Lord, like Saul and his armor-bearer; he hath fallen on his own sword; and the worst of it is that the darned thing won't come out again.”
“Firm—the last person in the world to do it! Oh, Uncle Sam, surely they have told you—”