she rose to speak her voice and manner instantly arrested Robert's
attention. He found his mind reverting to the scenes of his childhood.
As she proceeded his attention became riveted on her. Unbidden tears
filled his eyes and great sobs shook his frame. He trembled in every
limb. Could it be possible that after years of patient search through
churches, papers, and inquiring friends, he had accidentally stumbled on
his mother--the mother who, long years ago, had pillowed his head upon
her bosom and left her parting kiss upon his lips? How should he reveal
himself to her? Might not sudden joy do what years of sorrow had failed
to accomplish? Controlling his feelings as best he could, he rose to
tell his experience. He referred to the days when they used to hold
their meetings in the lonely woods and gloomy swamps. How they had
prayed for freedom and plotted to desert to the Union army; and
continuing, he said: "Since then, brethren and sisters, I have had my
crosses and trials, but I try to look at the mercies. Just think what it
was then and what it is now! How many of us, since freedom has come,
have been looking up our scattered relatives. I have just been over to
visit my old mistress, Nancy Johnson, and to see if I could get some
clue to my long-lost mother, who was sold from me nearly thirty years
ago."

Again there was a chorus of moans.

On resuming, Robert's voice was still fuller of pathos.

"When," he said, "I heard that dear old mother tell her experience it
seemed as if some one had risen from the dead. She made me think of my
own dear mother, who used to steal out at night to see me, fold me in
her arms, and then steal back again to her work. After she was sold
away I never saw her face again by daylight. I have been looking for her
ever since the war, and I think at last I have got on the right track.
If Mrs. Johnson, who kept the boarding-house in C----, is the one who
sold that dear old mother from her son, then she is the one I am looking
for, and I am the son she has been praying for."

The dear old mother raised her eyes. They were clear and tearless. An
expression of wonder, hope, and love flitted over her face. It seemed as
if her youth were suddenly renewed and, bounding from her seat, she
rushed to the speaker in a paroxysm of joy. "Oh, Robby! Robby! is dis
you? Is dat my pore, dear boy I'se been prayin' 'bout all dese years?
Oh, glory! glory!" And overflowing with joyous excitement she threw