a few smiles and exchanges of glances at first among those of
lighter mind among them, some of whom were even so uncharitable as to
insinuate that Sis' Tamar wasn't "half so grieved as she let on." The
more serious, however, united in commending her act as "mos'
Christian-like an' sisterly conduc'." And when, after the gentle
insistence of the long spring rains, added to the persuasiveness of
Tamar's mourning, the grave of her solicitude sank to an easy level,
bespeaking peace to its occupant, Tamar suddenly burst into full flower
of flaming color, and the mourning period became a forgotten episode of
the past. Indeed, in reviewing the ways and doings of the plantation in
those days, it seems entitled to no more prominence in the retrospect
than many another incident of equal ingenuousness and novelty. There was
the second wooing of old Aunt Salina-Sue, for instance, and Uncle
'Riah's diseases; but, as Another would say, these are other stories.

Another year passed over the plantation, and in the interval the always
expected had happened to the house of Pompey the coachman. It was a tiny
girl child, black of hue as both her doting parents, and endowed with
the name of her sire, somewhat feminized for her fitting into the rather
euphonious Pompeylou. Tamar had lost her other children in infancy, and
so the pansy-faced little Pompeylou of her mid-life was a great joy to
her, and most of her leisure was devoted to the making of the pink
calico slips that went to the little one's adorning.

On her first journey into the great world beyond the plantation,
however, she was not arrayed in one of these. Indeed, the long gown she
wore on this occasion was, like that of her mother, as black as the
rejuvenated band of crepe upon her father's stovepipe hat; for, be it
known, this interesting family of three was to form a line of chief
mourners on the front pew of Rose-of-Sharon Church on the occasion of
the preaching of the funeral of the faithfully mourned and long-lamented
Sophy-Sophia, whose hour of posthumous honor had at length arrived. The
obsequies in her memory had been fixed for an earlier date, but in
deference to the too-recent arrival of her "nearest of kin" was then too
young to attend, they had been deferred by Tamar's request, and it is
safe to say that no child was ever brought forward with more pride at
any family gathering than was the tiny Miss Pompeylou when she was
carried up the aisle "to hear her step-mammy'