Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1894-05-02


had been for some minutes descending,
when log by the wayside caught her
eye. 1t lay, a mass Of fox fire, cleaning
through the dark Spent and breathless,
she sank down upon it, saying under he1
breath:
81 cannot go much farther in this
darkness Maybe had better stay here
until morning"
Suddenly she started to her feet A
wild droning chant was borne upward
to her ear, the sound of many strong
voices pitched in minor key. 1t came
from the right, evidently below where
she sat- After minute she knew what
it was-the death song wherewith ne
groes seek to ease the passing soul. Feel
ing each step in advance she went for
ward little way, to find the path dig
sharply in the direction of the sound
and at last run into the small clearing
about Jincey's cabin.
Door and window stood wide, letting
big blurs of faint light fall outward
athwart the dark. A dozen were within,
men and women, standing about the bed
where the old woman lay, her gasping
breath coming shorter, shorter, with
each cadence of the wailing chant. AT
the beds foot stood Jubilee, Jincey's
sole living descendant, his wide, solemn
eyes fixed hard upon her withered face
AS Dare paused for moment in the
door, she caught the eye of a tall, white
haired old man, evidently the leader Of
the watchers, who beckoned her to come
forward as though her presence was ex.
pected and said as the rest fell back:
Speak to her, Miss Dare. She's most
gone, but I reckon she'll know you.
Seems like the fam 'bly's been all day on
her min -
"Granny Jincey, do you know me?'
Dare asked, taking the withered clammy
fingers within her own. The song had
died to brooding hush, broken only by
the far muttering of thunder, the tick OF
the deathwatch in the wall
The old woman stirred uneasily. Hel
lips moved but no word came, and still
the lids lay heavily over her eyes. Dare
bent almost to her ear and said clearly:
Granny Jincey, can do anything fol
you? Is there any message can take fol
your
The young voice pierced through the
gathering mists of death. Jincey's eyes
few wide; her hands clinched; she sat
convulsively upright, crying aloud:
''Mistis! Miss Alice! Jincey never
meant to hurt you''
''She takes yo' fer her mistis, yo' great
grandmother. Yo' ar lik' her" the old
man said in Dare's ear Jincey's hand
was cropping feebly under her pillow
while her lips mOaned:
1.-The key, the key, find it, find it fo1
Miss Alice!'
lis this de one?" Jubilee said, hold
ing bit of brass close to the dimnning
eyes.
Yes, yes" painted the old woman.
''Give it ter her. Papers-in chest-at-
de bottom, " falling back at the last word
with the death rattle in her throat.
"Bredren, sisters, sing whites l pray
fer dis departin soul, " the old man said,
dropping on his knees at the bedside
with rapt appraised eyes and moving
lips from which came only soundless Pc
titions Low and wild, with a ringing
undernote, the death song swelled out
through the summer night, to end only
when the old man, rising from his
knees, laid the dead hands straight, say
ing, with simple solemnity:
dust an ashes dow art become. De
silver cord is loosed, de golden bowl is
broken, de soul has gone back ter God
who gave, an blessed be de name er de
Lord
Dare's eyes were trimming. She knew
how these simple souls interpreted her
appearance. To them it was evident that,
hearing the old woman was dying, she
had come as a last kindness to one who
had been her grandfather slave. 1t was
no strained Interpretation. She would
not undeceive them. Jubilee would put
her in the road to Ridgeley, and weary
as she was it would not take SO very
long to reach it.
AS if obedient to her thought, the boy
came to her elbow and whispered
Miss Dare, 1 know de box dat key
fits. Hits in de bottom er de big CHS
I'll git it. Den yo' better go home"
Following him i'll silence, Dare saw
him fling up the lid of huge Golfer that