"A matter of hours, William says. I shall not go home until it's

over."

"Does he hear you?" said Dr. Lavendar, in a low voice, leaning over to

look into the gray face.

"Oh, no;" said Samuel.

The dying man opened one eye and looked at his son. "How much you

know!" he said, then closed it again.

"Are you comfortable, Benjamin?" Dr. Lavendar asked him. There was no

reply.

Samuel's face reddened. "You can't tell when he hears," he said. It

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was then that Simmons put out his hand and patted the bedclothes over

the old feet.

They sat there beside him for an hour before Benjamin Wright spoke

again; then William King came in, and stood looking down at him.

"He'll just sleep away," he told the son.

"I hope he is prepared," said Samuel, and sighed. He turned his back

on the big bed with the small figure sliding down and down towards the

foot-board, and looked out of the window. The boy had not been

prepared!

Suddenly, without opening his eyes, Benjamin Wright began: "'Animula vagula blandula,

Hospes comesque corporis,

Qua nunc abibis in loca?' "What do you think, Lavendar?"

"It will return to God, who gave it," said Dr. Lavendar.

There was another silence; until he wakened to say, brightly,

"Simmons, you freckled nigger, you'd better wring their necks, now, I

guess."

"No, suh," came a murmur from the shadow on the floor, "I'm a-goin to

take care of 'em fine. Yes, suh, I'll chop their eggs small; I sho'ly

will."

The dying hand began to wander over the coverlet; his son took it, but

was fretfully repulsed; then Dr. Lavendar made a sign, and Simmons

laid his thin old hand on it, and Benjamin Wright gave a contented

sigh. After a while he opened that one eye again, and looked at Dr.

Lavendar; "Isn't it cus-customary on such occasions, to--admonish?" he

said, peevishly; "you ain't doing your duty by me, Lavendar."

"You don't need admonition, Benjamin. You know what to do."

Silence again, and after a while a broken murmur: "'I here forget...

cancel all grudge, repeal thee...'" Then distinctly and quietly he

said: "Sam, will you forgive me?"

Samuel Wright nodded; he could not speak at first, and Simmons lifting

his head, looked at him, fiercely; then he swallowed several times,

and said, with ponderous dignity: "Certainly, father. Certainly." And

Simmons fell back into the shadows.




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