and devote myself to my mother, who had done so much and suffered so
much for me.

We then returned to St. Louis, and took up the old life, minus the
contentment which had always buoyed us up in our daily trials, and
with an added sorrow which cast a sadness over us. But Time, the great
healer, taught us patience and resignation, and once more we were

"Waiting when fortune sheds brightly her smile,
There always is something to wait for the while."

CHAPTER VII.

Four years afterward, I became the wife of Zachariah Delaney, of
Cincinnati, with whom I have had a happy married life, continuing
forty-two years. Four children were born to us, and many were the
plans we mapped out for their future, but two of our little girls were
called from us while still in their childhood. My remaining daughter
attained the age of twenty-two years, and left life behind, while the
brightest of prospects was hers, and my son, in the fullness of a
promising youth, at the age of twenty-four, "turned his face to the
wall." So my cup of bitterness was full to the brim and overflowing;
yet one consolation was always mine! Our children were born free and
died free! Their childhood and my maternity were never shadowed with a
thought of separation. The grim reaper did not spare them, but they
were as "treasures laid up in heaven." Such a separation one could
accept from the hand of God, with humble submission, "for He calleth
His own!"

Mother always made her home with me until the day of her death; she
had lived to see the joyful time when her race was made free, their
chains struck off, and their right to their own flesh and blood
lawfully acknowledged. Her life, so full of sorrow, was ended, full of
years and surrounded by many friends, both black and white, who
recognized and appreciated her sufferings and sacrifices and rejoiced
that her old age was spent in freedom and plenty. The azure vault of
heaven bends over us all, and the gleaming moonlight brightens the
marble tablet which marks her last resting place, "to fame and fortune
unknown," but in the eyes of Him who judgeth us, hers was a heroism
which outvied the most famous.

* * * * *

I frequently thought of father, and wondered if he were alive or dead;
and at the time of the great exodus of negroes from the South, a few
years ago, a large number arrived in St. Louis, and were cared for by
the colored people of that city. They w