nce she had been old, and
left to follow her own wishes, she had never gone. Miss Janet frequently
read the Bible, and explained it to her. Alice, seated on a low stool by
the old woman's side, read to her scenes in the life of Christ, upon which
servants love to dwell. But as far as they could judge, there were no good
impressions left on her mind. She never objected, but she gave them no
encouragement. This Phillis had often thought of; and now as she sat with
her, it occurred to her with overwhelming force. "Death's about somewhere,"
said Aunt Peggy. "I can't see him, but I feels him. There's somefin here
belongs to him; he wants it, and he's gwine to have it."

"'Pears to me," said Phillis, "Death's always about. Its well to be ready
for him when he 'comes; 'specially we old people."

"Always ole people," said Aunt Peggy, "you want to make out that Death's
always arter ole people. No such thing. Look at the churchyard, yonder. See
any little graves thar? Plenty. Death's always arter babies; 'pears like he
loves 'em best of all."

"Yes," said Phillis, "young people die as well as old, but 'taint no harm
to be ready. You know, Aunt Peggy, we aint never ready till our sins is
repented of, and our souls is washed in the blood of Jesus. People ought
to think of that, old and young, but they don't."

"Death loves young people," said Aunt Peggy; "always arter 'em. See how he
took young Mr. William Jones, thar, in town, and he healthy and strong, wid
his young bride; and his father and mother old like me. See how he took
little George Mason, not long ago, that Uncle Geoffrey used to bring home
wid him from town, setting on de horse, before him. Didn't touch his ole
grandmother; she's here yet. Tell you, Death loves 'em wid de red cheeks
and bright eyes."

Phillis did not reply, and the old woman talked on as if to herself.

"Thinks thar's nothin bad but what comes to niggers; aint I had nuff
trouble widout Death. I aint forgot de time I was hauled away from home.
Cuss him, 'twas a black man done it; he told me he'd smash my brains out if
I made a sound. Dragged along till I come to de river; thar he sold me. I
was pushed in long wid all de rest of 'em, crying and howlin--gwine away
for good and all. Thar we was, chained and squeezed together; dead or live,
all one. Tied me to a woman, and den untied me to fling her into de
sea--dead all night, and I tied to her. Come long, cross de great sea; more
died, more flung to d