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Updated: May 5, 2025
Did not de good Lord say: 'Suffer de little chillen ter come unter Me'? An' Hilda, de dear little lamb, hab gone ter Him, an' is in de Good Shepherd's arms. Your little chile am not lost to you, she's safe at home, de dear bressed home ob heben, whar your moder is Missy Grace. De Hebenly Father say, 'Little Hilda, you needn't walk de long flinty, thorny path and suffer like you'se dear moder.
It was before railroads and steam-engines were much talked of in Virginia. Alighting in the outskirts of the town, Simon lifted the young girl to the ground, and hastily commending her to "de bressed Lord of heaben and earf," he bade her good-by, and went back to his bondage and toil. They never saw each other again.
"Bressed, happy man!" ejaculated the aged saint, again lifting her face heavenward, "an' bressed happy chile dat has de great an' mighty God for her father; kase de good book say, He is de father of de fatherless." A momentary hush fell upon the little group. Then Mr.
"Good-night, Aunt Chloe; come in again," said Rose. "And good- night to you, too, dear little Elsie," folding the little girl again in her arms. "Ain't dat a bressed young lady, darlin'!" exclaimed Chloe, earnestly, as she began the business of preparing her young charge for bed.
The cat will mew when her kittens are taken away. She'll get over it before long, and come up again all right." "Ye mus' b'ar it, chile," said Annie's poor, old mother, drawing from her own experience the only comfort which could be of any avail. "De bressed Lord will help ye; nobody else can. I's so sorry for ye, honey; but yer poor, old mudder can't do noffin.
"I hab lef my wife in de land o' bondage; my little ones dey say eb'ry night, Whar is my fader? But when I die, when de bressed mornin' rises, when I shall stan' in de glory, wid one foot on de water an' one foot on de land, den, O Lord, I shall see my wife an' my little chil'en once more." These sentences I noted down, as best I could, beside the glimmering camp-fire last night.
I mean when you die, cook. It's an awful question. Now what's your answer?" "When dis old brack man dies," said the negro slowly, changing his whole air and demeanor, "he hisself won't go nowhere; but some bressed angel will come and fetch him." "Fetch him? How? In a coach and four, as they fetched Elijah? And fetch him where?"
"Just imagine Phronsie's eyes when she sees that production. Candace, you've surpassed yourself." "You go 'long!" exclaimed Candace, in delight, and bestowing a gentle pat of deprecation on his shoulder, "'tain't like what I could do; but la! well, you send de bressed chile along, and mabbe she'll like it."
"What is the meaning of this, Mammy?" the Colonel asked, as soon as the young people had left. "What is going on to-night?" "It's a dance 'bout de fire, Cun'l," the old woman explained. "De young folks hab been plannin' all dis bressed day to s'prize Missie Jean an' Mistah Dane t'night. Dey's been cookin' an' cookin', an' whisperin' mysterious like, an' laffin' an' laffin' to split dere sides."
While waiting a venerable "uncle" proposed to hold a prayer-meeting. So under the tall trees and by the light of the smoldering coal-pits the old man prayed long and fervently to the "bressed Lord and Massa Lincoln," and hearty amens echoed through the woods. Besides a few small potatoes, one dried goat ham was all our zealous friends could procure.
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