The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-11-27

his kind again, even though the stir of well
come and the light of trust were gone out of
them for him. They lived, they breathed,
they spoke. He was tired Of death and soli-
tude.
He CROPPED back into the hut. The oil was
low, and he could not relight the lamp. He
Threw himself in the dark upon the bed.
He slept until late in the morning, heavily.
When he walked, the birds were shrill in the
not air, and the sun glared in.
will go now, !" he said, aloud. 81 am
glad can go" and crept to his feet.
de took two eps-staggered-and fell
Dack. He lay for some moments, stricken
more with establishment than alarm. His
first words were:
Lord God! After all-after all I've gone
through-Lord God Almighty, if You'll be-
lieye tive gotitW
This was on Wednesday morning. Night
fell, but no one came. Thursday-but out
size the hut no step stirred the parched,
white dust. Friday-Saturday--n voice
Dut his own moaning broke upon the sick
mans straining ear.
AS the days passed and no one came to
MIN, he was aware Of his not being able to
reason with himself clearly about his soli-
tude. Growing weak, he remembered the
sayyerted faces of the people for whom he mad
labored, and whom he had loved. In the
stress Of his pain their estranged eyes gazed
at him. He felt that he was deserted be-
cause he was distrusted. Patient as he was,
this seemed hard.
"Ihey did not care enough for me to miss
me-" he said, aloud, gently. 81 suppose L
was not worth it. 1 had been in prison. 1
Them
And again:
"Thcy would have come il they had
known. They would not have let me die
alone. / don't think she would have done
that. wonder where she is? Nobody has
missed me-that is all. must not mind"
Growing weaker, he thought less and
prayed more. He prayed, at last, almost all
his time. When he did not pray, he slept.
When he could not sleep, he prayed. He
addressed God with that sublime familiarity
of his, which fell from his lips with no more
irreverence than the kiss Of child falling
upon its mothers hand or neck.
The murderer, the felon, the outcast,
talked with the Almighty Holiness, as man
talketh with his friends. The deserted, dis
trusted, dying creature believed himself to
be trusted by the Being who had bestowed
on him the awful gift Of life.
He thought, while his thoughts remained
his own, most tenderiy and longingly of those
for whom he had given his life. He remem-
bered how many keen cares of their own
they had to carry, how many CHASTITY deeds
and sights to do and bear. TWAS not strange
that he should not be missed Who was he?
"a disgraced, unfamiliar man, among their
kin and neighborhood. Why should they
think of him? he said.
Yet he was glad that he could remember
them. He wished his living or his dying
tients had said to him, looks that healing eyes
had turned on him, little signs of human
love and leaning, came back to him as he Law
there, and stood around his bed, like people,
in the dark hut.
They loved me-" he said; "Lord, as true
as Pm alive, they did! Pm glad lived long
enough to save life, to SAGE life! Pm much
obliged to You for that l wish there was
something else could do for them.
Lord! I'd be willing to die if it would help
them any. II l thought could do anything
that way, toward sending them FROST
NO." he added, "that amt reasonable.
frost and human life amt convertible
coin. He don't do unreasonable things. May
be Pye lost my head already. But I'd be
glad to. That's all. 1 suppose l can ask
You for frost. That's reason.
Lord God of earth and Heaven that
made the South and North, the pestilence
and destruction, the sick and well, the living
and the dead, have mercy on us miserable
sinners! Have mercy on the folks that pray
to You, and on the folks that don't! Re-
member the old graves, and the new ones,
anu lHO SIuNOo Iudt ttlO W DC OpCuCu IL ILLS
hellish heat goes on, and send us blessed
frost, o Lord, as an act Of humanity! And
if that amt the way to speak to You, re-
member haven't been praying man long
enough to learn the language very well-and
that Pm pretty sick-but that 1 would be
glad to die-to give them-a great, white,
holy frost. Lord, a frostl Lord, a cool,
white, clean frost, for these poor devils that
have borne so much!"
At midnight of that Saturday he dozed
and dreamed. He dreamed of what he had
thought while Scip was sick; of what it was
like, to be holy; and sadly waking, thought
of holy people-good women and honest
men, who had never done deadly deed.
81 can not be holy" thought Zerviah
Hope; shut can pray for frost" So he
tried to pray for frost. But by that time he
had grown confused, and his will wandered
pitifully, and he saw strange sights in the
little hut. 1t was as if he were not alone.
Yet no one had come in. She could not
come at midnight. Strange-how strange!
Who was that who walked about the hut?
Who stood and looked at him? Who leaned
to him? Who brooded over him2 Who put
arms beneath him? Who looked at him, as
those look who love the sick too much to
shrink from them?
81 don't know YoU," said Zerviah, in a
distinct voice. Presently he smiled. eyes,
I guess do. see now. Pm not used to
You. never saw You before. You are
Him I've heered about-God's Son. Gods
Son, You've taken great deal Of trouble to
come here after me. Nobody else came.
You're the only one that has remembered
me.
+" Yes, remember. They made
prisoner of You. Why, yes They deserted
You. They let You die by Yourself. What
did You do it for? 1 DON'T know much about
theology. l am not an educated man. /
never prayed till I come South. E. 1
forget = What did You do it tor?"
A profound and solemn silence replied.
"Well," said the sick man, breaking it in
satisfied tone, as if he had been answered,
81 wasn't WORTH it but Pm glad You
came. wish they had frost, poor things
You won't go away? Well, Pm glad. Poor
thingsl Poor things! I'll take Your hand,
if You've no objections"
After a little time, he added, in a tone of
unutterable tenderness and content:
"Dedr Lord !" and said no more.
1t was quiet night. The stars rode on
as if there were no task but the tasks Of stars
in all the universe, and no sorrow keener
than their SORROW and no care other than
their motion and their shining. The web of
cloud foated like eXhaling breath between
them and the earth. 1t grew cooler before
the dawn. The leaves Of the palmetto over
Scip's grave seemed to uncurl, and grow lax,
and soften. The dust still flew heavily, but
the wind rose.
The Sunday-bells rang peacefully. The
sick heard them, and the convalescent and
the well. The dying listened to them before
they left. On the faces of the dead, too,
there came the look OF those who hear.