ow
and then laughing. Gentleman Bill thought his conduct indecorous, and
reproved him for it.

"Gracious!" said the lad, "don't you see who I'm talkin' with?"

"No, Sir,--I can't say I see anybody, Sir."

"No?" exclaimed the astonished youth. "Why, it's the old man, goin' to
his own funeral!"

This, you may say, was foolishness; but, oh, it was innocent and
beautiful foolishness, compared with that of Frisbie and his
sympathizers, when they discovered the negro burial, and felt that their
mourning was too respectable to be the near companion of the mourning of
those poor blacks, and that their beautiful dead was too precious to be
laid in the earth beside their dead.

What could be done? Indignation and sorrow availed nothing. The tomb of
the lovely was prepared, and it only remained to pity the affront to her
ashes, as she was committed to the chill depths amid silence and choking
tears. It is done; and the burial of the old negro is deferentially
delayed until the more aristocratic rites are ended.

Gingerford set the example of standing with his hat off in the yellow
sunshine and wintry air, with his noble head bowed low, while the last
prayer was said at the maiden's sepulture. Then he lifted up his face,
radiant; and the flashing and rainbow-spanned torrent of his eloquence
broke forth. He had reserved his forces for this hour. He had not the
Williams family and their friends alone for an audience, but many who
had come to attend the young lady's funeral remained to hear the Judge.
It was worth their while. Finely as he had discoursed at the hut of the
negroes, before the corpse was brought out, that was scarcely the time,
that was certainly not the place, for a crowning effort of his genius.
But here, his larger audience, the open air, the blue heavens, the
graves around, the burial of the young girl side by side with the old
slave, all contributed to inspire him. Human brotherhood, universal
love, the stern democracy of death, immortality,--these were his theme.
Life, incrusted with conventionalities; Death, that strips them all
away. This is the portal (pointing to the grave) at which the soul drops
all its false incumbrances,--rank, riches, sorrow, shame. It enters
naked into eternity. There worldly pride and arrogance have no place.
There false judgment goes out like a sick man's night-lamp, in the
morning light of truth. In the courts of God only spiritual distinctions
prevail. That you were a lord in