d taking Evelyn
with her, went through the house to see that all was in order for the
reception of her brother and his wife, then sat down in the veranda for a
chat with "mammy" before returning to Fairview.

"Mammy, dear," she said interrogatively, "you are not grieving very much
for Uncle Joe?"

"No, chile, no; he's in dat bressed land whar dah no mo' misery in de
back, in de head, in any part ob de body; an' no mo' sin, no mo' sorrow,
no mo' dyin', no mo' tears fallin' down the cheeks, no mo' trouble any
kin'."

"But don't you miss him very much, Aunt Chloe?" asked Evelyn softly, her
voice tremulous with the thought of her own beloved dead, and how sorely
she felt his absence.

"Yes, chile, sho I does, but 'twont be for long; Ise so ole and weak, dat
I knows Ise mos' dar, mos' dar!"

The black, wrinkled face uplifted to the sky, almost shone with glad
expectancy, and the dim, sunken eyes grew bright for an instant with hope
and joy.

Then turning them upon Evelyn, and, for the first time, taking note of
her deep mourning, "Po' chile," she said, in tender, pitying tones, "yo's
loss somebody dat yo' near kin?"

Evelyn nodded, her heart too full for speech, and Elsie said softly, "Her
dear father has gone to be forever with the Lord, in the blessed, happy
land you have been speaking of, mammy."

"Bressed, happy man!" ejaculated the aged saint, again lifting her face
heavenward, "an' bressed happy chile dat has de great an' mighty God for
her father; kase de good book say, He is de father of de fatherless."

A momentary hush fell upon the little group. Then Mr. Leland, who had
been looking into the condition of field and garden, as his wife into
that of the house, joined them and suggested that this would be a good
time and place for the telling of the story Eva had been asking for;
especially as, in Aunt Chloe, they had a second eye-witness.

Elsie explained to her what was wanted.

"Ah, chillens, dat was a terrible time," returned the old woman, sighing
and shaking her head.

"Yes, mammy," assented Elsie; "you remember it well?"

"Deed I does, chile;" and rousing with the recollection into almost
youthful excitement and energy, she plunged into the story, telling it in
a graphic way that enchained her listeners, though to two of them it was
not new, and one occasionally assisted her memory or supplied a missing
link in the chain of circumstances.[A]

[Footnote A: For the details of this story, see "El