"
"Well, you kind old soul, what do you know?"
"P'raps des what mars'r knows ef he ony tinks a lil. Let us git
right down ter de root ob de marter, kaze I feared dere ain' time
fer 'locutions."
"Now you're right at least, uncle. I must set my house in order. I
must write to my wife."
"Marse cap'n, you gwine on a journey. Wa't yo' wife wish mo'n dat
you git ready fer de journey? She tek dat journey too, bime by soon,
en you bof be at de same deah home."
"Ah, uncle, if that could be true, the sting of death would be
gone."
"Sut'ny, marse cap'n. Didn't I know dat ar w'en I mek bole ter
speak? Now des tink on hit, mars'r. Yere I is, an ole ign'rant
slabe, kyant eben read de good Book. De worl' full ob poor folks lak
me. Does you tink ef de Lawd mean ter sabe us't all He'd do hit in
some long rounerbout way dat de wise people kyant mos' fin' out? No,
bress He gret big heart, He des stan' up en say to all, 'Come ter me
en I gib you res'."
"Yes, uncle, but I haven't gone to Him. I don't know how to go, and
what's more, I don't feel it's right to go now at the last minute as
if driven by fear.
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