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Updated: May 9, 2025
"He don't take enough account o' honor, an' the like, but it's for tryin' till keep his soul right," he used to say, excusingly, to Dode. "That's it! He minds me o' th' man that lived up on th' pillar, prayin'." "The Lord never made people to live on pillars," Dode said. The old man looked askance at Gaunt's worn face, as he trotted along beside him, thinking how pure it was.
Perhaps Douglas would not remember about the crackers, after all? with the blood heating and chilling in her face, as she looked out of the window, and then at the clock, her nervous fingers shaking, as she arranged them on the plate. She wished she had some other way of making him welcome; but what could poor Dode do?
It grew darker; the gray afternoon was wearing away with keen gusts and fitful snow-falls. Dode looked up wearily: a sharp exclamation, rasped out by Aunt Perrine, roused her. "Dead? Dougl's dead?" "Done gone, Mist'. I forgot dat ter tell yer. Had somefin' else ter tink of." "Down in the gully?" "Saw him lyin' dar as I went ter git Flynn's cart ter ter bring Mars' Joe, yer know, home. Gone dead.
She is a half-Abolitionist herself, and then she knows her State will soon be free. So Dode, with deeper-lit eyes, and fresher rose in her cheek, stands in the door this summer evening waiting for her husband. She cannot see him often; he has yet the work to do which he calls just and holy. But he is coming now.
However, he was rather flattered at the possession of so important a story just now, and in obedience to Aunt Perrine's nod seated himself with dignity on the lowest step of the garret-stairs, holding carefully his old felt hat, which he had decorated with streaming weepers of crape. Dode, pressing her hands to her ears, heard only the dull drone of their voices.
Dode, not being a genius, could not christen it morbid sensibility; but as she had a childish fashion of tracing things to commonplace causes, whenever she felt her face grow hot easily, or her throat choke up as men's do when they swear, she concluded that her liver was inactive, and her soul was tired of sitting at her Master's feet, like Mary.
"O Lord!" cried the negro, "ef Mist' Dode was hyur! Him's goin', an' him's las' breff is given ter de beast! Mars' Joe," calling in his ear, "fur God's sake say um prayer!" The man moved restlessly, half-conscious. "I wish David was here, to pray for me." The negro gritted his teeth, choking down an oath. "I wish, I thort I'd die at home, allays. That bed I've slep' in come thirty years.
The boy Dode was overjoyed at his escape from the gang, and explained that they had captured him not far from Washington and forced him to accompany them, the idea being to use him in the future in getting rid of the spurious coins. "They are making a lot of it," he declared, "and the country will be flooded with their work if the government doesn't catch them."
"They stole you, didn't they? They brought you here from Washington to make a thief of you, didn't they?" "And they beat you up for making the signals, too," Teddy put in. "And they're coming out now!" he added. "So we'll all git but Dode!" Mrs. Brady and Buck walking together, Ned and Frank discussed the situation thoroughly as they descended the mountainside.
"David Gaunt was in the house, he had been there all the evening," she said, a worried heat on her face. "Should not she call him to go to the meeting?" "Jest as you please, Dode; jest as you please." She should not be vexed. And yet What if Gaunt did not quite appreciate his girl, see how deep-hearted she was, how heartsome a thing to look at even when she was asleep?
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