ckra man--he bad buckra man.
Buckra angel dar, too, a standin' 'side de swanga gemman, but swanga
gemman doan't see har. She look jess like de pore chile. De swanga
gemman git up, an' 'pear angry, bery angry, but he keep in. Talk hard to
oder buckra man, who shake him head, an' look down. Swanga gemman den
walk de room, an' talk fasser yit, but bad buckra man keep shakin' him
head. Den swanga gemman stan' right ober de oder buckra man, an' de
strong words come inter him froat. Him 'pears gwine to curse de buckra
man, but de angel put har han' ober him moufh, an' say suffin' to him.
Swanga gemman yeres, dough he doan't see har. Den he say nuffin' more,
but gwo right 'way.'

It was the scene in Hallet's office, when I told him of his victim's
death, and entreated him to provide for, if he did not acknowledge his
child. The words which flashed upon my brain, and stayed the curse which
rose to my lips, were those of the dying girl: 'Leave him to GOD!'

'Go on. Tell me what she _said_,' I exclaimed.

'Mudder doan't _yere_; she only see de pictur ob what hab been. Listen!'
said Joe; and the old woman again spoke:

'I sees a big city--de fuss city, an' great hous'n--de fuss hous'n. De
young missus am dar, wid de pore chile, an' a little chile dat look jess
like she do; an' dar'm anoder bery little chile dar, too. Dey'm upstars
in a room, wid a bed an' a candle burnin'. Dey'm gwine to bed. Young
missus kneel down wid de two chil'ren, an' pray. An' side de pore chile,
an' kneelin' down wid har arm roun' him neck, am de buckra angel. She
pray, too. Swanga gemman in anoder room yere dem aprayin', an' he come
an' look. He say nuffin', but he stan' dar, an' de big tear run down him
cheek. De time come back to him when _he_ wus a little chile, an' he
pray like dem. He doan't pray 'nuff now!'

It was the last night I had passed at home. A feeling of indescribable
awe crept over me, and I rose halfway from my seat.

'Sit still, sar,' said Joe, almost forcing me back into the chair.
'You'll break de power.'

'You know the past, old woman,' I exclaimed. 'Tell me the future!'

'Hush!' she replied, with an imperious tone. 'Dey'm comin'.'

During all this time she had stood with her hand on my head, as
immovable as a marble statue. Her voice had a deep, strong tone, and her
face wore a look of calm power. Nothing about her reminded me of the
weak, decrepit old woman she had been but an hour before.

'Dey'm yere!' she said; and in