ng
visible. The children stared stolidly back, and the old people sat
unmoved; he even fancied that he could detect relief in the eyes of one
or two, quickly suppressed, however, by the innate politeness of the
race. A sudden mist came over his eyes; he had thought that perhaps some
of them would care a little. He hurried on: "I have written to the North
for a new teacher for you, a man of your own people, who will not only
teach you, but also, as a minister, hold services on the Sabbath; you
can have a little church of your own then. Such a man will do better for
you than I have done, and I hope you will like him"--he was going to
say, "better than you have liked me," but putting down all thought of
self, he added, "and that his work among you will be abundantly
blessed."

"Glory! glory!" cried an old aunty. "A color'd preacher ob our own!
Glory! glory!"

Then Uncle Scipio rose slowly, with the aid of his crutches, and, as
orator of the occasion, addressed the master.

"You see, sah, how it is; you see, Mars King David," he said, waving his
hand apologetically, "a color'd man will unnerstan us, 'specially ef he
hab lib'd at de Souf; we don't want no Nordern free niggahs hyar. But a
'spectable color'd preacher, now, would be de makin' ob Jubilee, fo' dis
worl' an' de nex'."

"Fo' dis worl' and de nex'," echoed the old woman.

"Our service to you, sah, all de same," continued Scipio, with a grand
bow of ceremony; "but you hab nebber _quite_ unnerstan us, sah, nebber
quite; an' you can nebber do much fo' us, sah, on 'count ob dat fack--ef
you'll scuse my saying so. But it is de trouf. We give you our t'anks
and our congratturrurlations, an' we hopes you'll go j'yful back to your
own people, an' be a shining light to 'em for ebbermore."

"A shinin' light for ebbermore," echoed the rest. One old woman,
inspired apparently by the similarity of words, began a hymn about "the
shining shore," and the whole assembly, thinking no doubt that it was an
appropriate and complimentary termination to the proceedings, joined in
with all their might, and sang the whole six verses through with fervor.

"I should like to shake hands with you all as you go out," said the
master, when at last the song was ended, "and--and I wish, my friends,
that you would all remember me in your prayers to-night before you
sleep."

What a sight was that when the pale Caucasian, with the intelligence of
generations on his brow, asked for the prayer