The commonwealth. (Greenwood, Miss.) 1896-1923, 1906-05-04

slowly unclcsed. The blue eyes looked
up, for the first time in many days, with
a perfect recognition into the scanned,
agonized old face bending over them.
Uncle Bob
what is It. leetle Moss?' answered
the broken old voice,
Uncle Bob, are you crying touch
ing with his wan little hand the withered
cheek over which the uucontrollaols
tears were flowing,
mo, not deed / ain, leetle Moss!"
surreptitiously wiping them away with
his bandana handkerchief, deed ain,
darlin'; what inc Bob gwine cry
'bout?" in futile attempt at loving de-
ception, seeing the panied look on the
fair little features,
Poor Uncle Bob with plying ten
derness. still softly stroking the with
cred cheek.
Honey" sobbed Uncle Bob, don
study bout me. Don grebe bout ole
Unc' Bob. He gib his life ter mex you
des one minute easy an 'dout pain
81 am easy, Uncle Bob, and happy
The unearthly sweetness OF the smile
broke down Uncle Bob's last little rem
nant of self-control, and he wept on, I'M
restrainedly, for a few minutes.
The little boys eyes wandered round
the ROOM, and rested, in their pathetic
searching. on the faces Of Lucy and Tom
poor Lucy's, worn and haggard from
nights Of watching and days Of unrest,
and Toms. whose breaking heart was
plainly visible In the havoc which the
past days had lndelibly imprinted
thereon.
The old grandmother, bedridden and
Frustrated under the impending calam-
ity, was alone, save for her devoted and
faithful attendant, with her sorrow and
her God.
Tom bent over and tendcrly wiped the
damp brow and pushed back the fair
clustering curls Of the child, He gave A
cold little hand to brother and sister,
and, in response to the heroism Of poor
Lucy's brave and loving smile, sighed
contentedly, as he turned his little head
over on the pillow.
Jerusalem, the Golden"-eyenlnf
service was going on in the church, anc
the words were borne plainly on tht
absolute stiffness OF the air;
~ know not, Oh! I know not
what Joys await US there.
What radianCy Of glory,
What bliss beyond compare"
Uncle Bob's tears had ceased to flow,
Lucy and Tom sat motionless, theIl
faces in shadow.
Tel me-abOut it-Uncle Bob
gasped the weak little voice, as the las
strain died away-"Jerusalem tbs
Golden"
Uncle Bob leaned eagerly forward, al
traces of tears carefully wiped away
that no selfish display of grief disturb
the serenity Of the departing soul.
Leetle Moss" he whispered in hi
broken, %quaYering voice, "dar whar 20,
gwlne, de streets is gOl'en, an de flow
ers is bloomln', an de libin' waters i
1owin' froo de green fiel's oh Pah'dise
Oh! leetle Moss, you an me-po' ole Unc
Bob-hab talk a heap bout dat happ,
Ian, but Unc' Bob ain neber spec da
you gwlne go haid oh him ter de swee
an blessed country"
Flowers" murmured the little one
drowsily, gold flowers. VIII there
be any roses-like Lucy's?"
LEX Miss Lucy's!" in tender assul
ance. "Leetle Moss, der how'rs up
pah'dise, des es much puttier'n Mis-
Lucy's es day is dan night! Ain do.
Miss LuCy?"
Yes, yes, Uncle Bob, Oh, tell hi
yes!" wept the girl.
"An' dey des de putties' streets 20
eber Is see, an you gwine meet all q
folks done gone befO', honey. An tie
'em Unc' Bob gwine be long soon
soon!" in an ecstasy Of longing.
A smile Of surprising beauty, an
full of the tenderness OF a heaVenl
assurance, lit up the little pallid fac
"sing, Uncle Bob" he said, in a
the simplicity Of his b%abyh0od, whe
the melody Of that tremulous old voiC
was the sound that nightly rocked b.
soul to sleep.
"Yas, leetle Moss. UnC' Bob gwin
sing" clearing his throat and putin
forth every effort of his bursting hear
On the ~quIyering air there fell tn
strains Of a voice, old, cracked, worl
strained with the terrible strain Of tn
coming wrench, yet sweet with all tn
memories of his little life, to the dyin
boy:
'I want ter be er an-Rul
An Wild de an-guls stan.
Er crown ah-pawn my %foh-haid,
An er harp widin my hand -"
what dat you sayin', leetle Moss,
bending down low I've the partin
lips.
rs | gwine be er white angul? Oh
Gawd hab mussy!"-wringing hi
hands in indescribable agOny-"Wha
gwine say? Glib me de right wohd
to use, Marse Jesus! Leetle Moss!
gwine be er black angul!-er jet blaC
soul! SO dat you des boun' reco'ni2
Unc' Bob de minute you set eyes 0
him-dat de truf, Lawd!" Taisin
streaming eyes Of supreme %renuncis
ton to heaven.
Uncle Bob" and the little voice wa
r. HVIyL.z 81