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"Come, Zeke! poor Mary's a-waitin' for ye!" cried the sailor, suddenly, in a voice of thunder, and as suddenly relapsed into the low singing of the quiet hymn again: "Deep-en de woun' dy hands have made In dis weak, helpless soul, Till mercy, wid its mighty aid De-scen to make me whole; Yes, Lord! De-scen to make me whole."
And I considers, Miss Hannah " And here, in fact, the professor, having secured a patient hearer, launched into an oration that, were I to report it word for word, would take up more room than we can spare him. He brought his discourse round in a circle, and ended where he had begun. "And so, Miss Hannah, say no more to me 'bout de money, 'less you want to woun' my feelin's."
Oh, blessed Jesus, by de remembrance of de thorn marks an' de nail prints an' de woun' in thy side forgive thy ungrateful chillen. We'se ben a' lookin' roun on de perishin' tings of earth fer our comfort, an' a' seekin' our homes in this worl'. Lord, help us ter find our real home in thee! Help us ter steal away ter Jesus, when de storm cloud hangs low and de billows roar about our heads.
"Dave wuz buried down by de swamp, in de plantation buryin'-groun'. Wiley didn' died fum de woun' he got in Mars McIntyre's hen-'ouse; he got well atter a w'ile, but Dilsey wouldn' hab nuffin mo' ter do wid 'im, en 't wa'n't long 'fo' Mars Dugal' sol' 'im ter a spekilater on his way souf, he say he didn' want no sich a nigger on de plantation, ner in de county, ef he could he'p it.
De cap'n was too weak an' gone-like ter say anyting mo', an' dey carry him up ter de bes' company room. I goes up wid dem ter wait on de surgeon, an' he 'zamin' de woun' an' gib de cap'n brandy, an' at las' say dat de cap'n get well ef he keep quiet a few weeks, dat he weak now from de shock an' loss ob blood.
There's the landlady to the house where me and Mis' Yorke puts up; she's the best, an allers doin' for Mis' Yorke, an' come an' sit with her an' talk my talk by the hour she will, straight on, like as she'd been woun' up; an' she come yesterday, all kin' of fussy like, an' her face red, an' she says, says she, 'Captain Yorke, says she, 'ef ye wouldn't mind me askin' a little favor of ye?"
As he lay there in horror and amid contempt, a voice arrested his ears near by, singing, with musical and easy spirit, so low that it seemed a hymn, from the roads and fields far down beneath: "Deep-en de woun' dy hands have made In dis weak, helpless soul."
Jimmy listened to a few lines: "Deep-en de woun' dy han's have made In dis weak, helpless soul, Till mercy wid its mighty aid De-scen to make me whole; Yes, Lord! De-scen to make me whole." A little negro child, perhaps three years old, was lying asleep on the ground at the woman's feet, in an old tattered gray blanket that might have been discarded from a stable.
"Dave wuz buried down by de swamp, in de plantation buryin' groun'. Wiley didn' died fum de woun' he got in Mars McIntyre's hen 'ouse; he got well atter a w'ile, but Dilsey wouldn' hab nuffin mo' ter do wid 'im, en 't wa'n't long 'fo' Mars Dugal' sol' 'im ter a spekilater on his way souf, he say he didn' want no sich a nigger on de plantation, ner in de county, ef he could he'p it.
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