“My name ith Jenny,” lisped the little one.
“Why, you see, ma’am—” stammered the stranger; he paused, in an embarrassed way, and smoothed the nap of his hat with his sleeve. “You see, ma’am—” he resumed; then, breaking down again, he suddenly seized the boy by the hand, led him up to her, and said, “There, Robin! that’s your good old granny, you’ve heard so much about.”
With a look of astonishment, Mrs. May said to him: “And where is my daughter, sir? Surely these little children wouldn’t come so far without their mother.”
The man again began to say, “You see, ma’am—” but his heart came up and choked his voice with a great sob. The old mother understood its meaning. She encircled the two children with her arms, and drew them closely to her side. After a brief silence, she asked, in a subdued voice, “When did she die?”
Her calmness reassured the stranger, and with a steady voice he replied: “You see, ma’am, your daughter and her husband have been neighbors of mine ever since they went to Illinois. There’s been an epidemic fever raging among us, and they both died of it. The last words your daughter said were, ‘Carry the children to my good mother.’ I’ve been wanting to come and see my old father, who lives about three miles from here, so I brought them along with me. It’s sorrowful news for you, ma’am, and I meant to have sort of prepared you for it; but somehow I lost my presence of mind, and forgot what I was going to say. But I’m glad to see you so sustained under it, ma’am.”
“I thank God that these are left,” she replied; and she kissed the little faces that were upturned to hers with an expression that seemed to say they thought they should like their grandmother.
“I’m so glad you’re helped to take it so,” rejoined the stranger. “Your daughter always told me you was a woman that went straight ahead and did your duty, trusting the Lord to bring you through.”
“I am forgetting my duty now,” she replied. “You must be hungry and tired. If you’ll drive to Neighbor Harrington’s barn, he will take good care of your horse, and I will prepare your supper.”
“Thank you kindly, ma’am; but I must jog on to my old father’s, to take supper with him.”
Some boxes containing the clothing of the children and their mother were brought in; and, having deposited them, the stranger departed amid thanks and benedictions.