a skin so black and shining, and her
limbs so rigid, that she might almost have been mistaken for one
of those massive statues we sometimes see carved out of the solid
anthracite. A bright yellow turban on her head rose in shape like an
Egyptian pyramid, adding to her extraordinary hight, and strangely
contrasting with her black, thick, African features. Altogether her
appearance would have been formidable and repelling, but for a look
in her eye like the clear shining after rain, and a tranquil, peaceful
expression which had over-spread her hard visage. Tidy was overawed
and fascinated by the gigantic figure, and when, after a few minutes
of sacred silence, the new comer, who seemed accepted as the presiding
spirit of the occasion, commenced singing, she was more than usually
interested and attentive. The words were not familiar to the company, so
that none could join, and the deep monotone of the woman, at first
low, and by degrees becoming louder and more animated, made every word
distinct and impressive.

"I was but a youth when first I was called on,
To think of my soul and the state I was in;
I saw myself standing from God a great distance,
And betwixt me and him was a mountain of Sin.

"Old Satan declared that I had been converted,
Old Satan persuaded me I was too young;
And before my days ended that I would grow tired,
And I'd wish that I'd never so early begun."

"But, praise de Lord," exclaimed the woman, stopping short in her hymn,
and rising suddenly to her feet, "I habn't growed tired yet, and I's
been walkin in de ways of goodness forty years and more. De Lord, he is
good,--I knows he is, for I's tried him and found him out, and I's neber
tired o' praisin him. Bress de Lord! He's new to me ebery mornin, and
fresh as de coolin waters ebery ebening. Praise de Lord! Hallelujah!
When I was a chile, I use to make massa's boys mad so's to hear 'em
swar. It pleased dis wicked cretur to hear de fierce swarrin'. One day I
went to de garden behind de house to git de water-melons for dinner, and
I heerd a voice. 'Pears 'twas like a leetle, soft voice, but I couldn't
see nobody nowhar dat spoke, and it said, 'Lony, Lony, don't yer make
dem boys swar no more, ef ye do, ye'll lose yer soul.' I looked all roun
and roun, for I was skeered a'most to deff, but I couldn't see nobody,
and den I know'd 'twas a voice from heaben, for I'd heerd o' sich, and
I says, 'No, Lord, no,