r George in the forsaken
shadow of Brier Crook church. He was given a place on the hill, beside
the Chadwicks, whose name he had borne unsullied, and to whose honor he
had been proudly loyal.

"That was a gran' funeral occasion, sis' Sheba," exclaimed Aunt Susan,
as she took off the rusty crape veil that had served at the funerals of
two generations. "I reckon every cul'ud person around heah was present.
Three ministahs a helpin', an' fo'teen white families sendin' flowahs
with their cards on isn't to be seen every day in the yeah. I wouldn't
have missed it for anything."

"No, indeed," answered Mammy, with a mournful shake of the head. "Dyin'
would be somethin' to look forwa'ds to if we could all hope for such a
buryin' as that. But I'm beat about John Jay. He do seem so onfeelin'.
He loved that man bettah than anything on this yearth, an' I s'posed
he'd take his death mighty hard; but what you reckon he said to me this
mawnin'. I was i'onin' my black aidged handkerchief to take, when he
says to me, sezee, 'What you want to put on mo'nin' for Rev'und Gawge
for? He said to tell you all that he jus' gone through the toll-gate.'"

"You don't tell me!" exclaimed Aunt Susan. "That sut'n'ly sounds
on-natchel in a chile like him."

"Yes," continued Mammy, "I haven't seen him shed a tear. He jus' wandahs
around the yard, same as if nothin' had happened, and nevah says a word
about it."

[Illustration: Sat alone by the church steps]

She did not know how many times he slipped away from the other children
and sat alone by the church steps, where he had so often listened to
George's vesper melodies. She did not know what mournful cadences of
memory thrilled him, as he rocked himself back and forth among the dead
weeds, with his arms around his knees and his head bowed on them. She
knew nothing of the music that had sung wordless longings into his
simple child-heart until it awakened answering voices of a deathless
ambition. So her surprise knew no bounds when he came slowly into the
cabin one evening, and asked if he might be allowed to start to
school the following week.

"Law, chile!" she answered. "They isn't any school for cul'ud folks
less'n a mile an' a half away, an' besides, you hasn't clothes fitten to
wear. The scholars would all laugh at you."

Still he persisted. "What put such a notion in yo' head, anyhow?" she
demanded.

John Jay turned his face aside, and busied himself with taking another
reef in his s