" And the
poor old woman bowed her head and rocked her body to and fro.
"Well," she continued after a moment's pause, "I was telling dat sweet
angel dere my trouble, and she was mighty sorry, and sat dere and cried,
and den she said, 'Mrs. Thomas, I hope in a better world dat you'll see
a joy according to all the days wherein you have seen sorrow!' Bless her
sweet heart, she's got in de shining gate afore me, but I bound to meet
her on de sunny banks of deliberance.
"And she was at my house yesterday," said another. "She cum'd to see if
I wanted any ting, and I tell'd her I would like to hab a little
flannel, 'cause I had the rheumatiz so bad, and she said I should hab
it. Den she asked me if I didn't like freedom best. I told her I would
rather live in a corn crib, and so I would. It is hard getting along,
but I hopes for better times. And den she took down de Bible, and read
wid dat sweet voice of hers, about de eagle stirring up her nest, and
den she said when de old eagle wanted her young to fly she broked up de
nest, and de little eagles didn't known what was de matter, but some how
dey didn't feel so cumfertable, 'cause de little twigs and sticks stuck
in 'em, and den dey would work dere wings, and dat was de way she said
we must do; de ole nest of slavery was broke up, but she said we mus'n't
get discouraged, but we must plume our wings for higher flying.
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