He glanced at me with a feeble,
helpless smile, his head fell backward, his eyes gradually closed, and,
in spite of the iniquities which covered his ancient head, he fell into a
slumber that had all the semblance of childlike and unblemished
innocence.
CHAPTER XIX.
DEATH OF THE CRADLEBOW.
While Grandpa Keeler dozed peacefully, Emily Gaskell, also "passin' by,"
joined the group of women on the doorsteps of the Ark.
Emily, by the way, was regarded as a hopeful subject of the "awakenin'."
She had been to see a doctor in Farmouth, who told her she could not live
through another winter "with that cough on her." She sat very still in
the meetings, it was said, and seemed "tetched and wonderful," whereas
she had been wont formerly, on occasions of this solemn nature, to evince
many signs of restlessness, and even to engage in droll and sly
diversions for the greater delectation of the "unconsarned."
Emily herself was particularly unreserved on the subject of her spiritual
condition. Her tone had lost none of its former bright vivacity, though I
thought I saw frequently now, while she was talking, a softer shadow
steal over the restless, consuming fire in her blue eyes.
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