The Two Elsies Part 17

With the resolve she rose from the chair where she had been sitting, and kneeling before it with clasped hands and closed eyes, from which penitent tears stole down her cheeks, said, in low, reverent tones, "Dear Lord Jesus, I'm only a little girl and very full of sin; I've done a great many bad things in my life, and haven't done the good things I knew I ought to do; and I have a very bad heart that doesn't want to do right.

Oh, please make it good; oh, please take away all the wickedness that is in me; wash me in Thy precious blood, so that I shall be clean and pure in Thy sight. Forgive me for living so long without loving Thee, when I've known all the time about Thy great love to me. Help me to love Thee now and forever more; I give myself to Thee to be all thine forever and forever. Amen."

Her prayer was ended, yet she did not at once rise from her kneeling posture; it was so sweet to linger there at the Master's feet; she remembered and trusted His promise, "Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out," and almost she could hear His dear voice saying in tenderest tones, "Daughter, thy sins, which are many, are forgiven thee."

"I love them that love Me, and those that seek Me early shall find Me."

She seemed to feel the touch of His hand laid in blessing on her head, and her heart sang for joy.

Meanwhile the older children had gathered about Aunt Chloe, now seated in a back veranda--the weather being still warm enough for the outer air to be very pleasant at that time of day--and Rosie, as spokesman of the party, begged coaxingly for stories of mamma when she was a little girl.

"It's de Lawd's day, chillens," answered the old woman in a doubtful tone.

"Yes, mammy," acknowledged Rosie, "but you can easily make your story fit for Sunday; mamma was so good--a real Christian child, as you have often told me."

"So she was, chile, so she was; I's sho' she lub de Lawd, from de bery day her ole mammy fus' tole her how He lub her. Yes, you right, Miss Rosie; I kin tole you 'bout her, and 'twon't break de Sabbath day. Is yo'

all hyar now?" she asked, glancing inquiringly about.

"All but Gracie," said Rosie, glancing round the little circle in her turn. "I wonder where she is. Betty," to a little negro maid standing in the rear, "go and find Miss Gracie, and ask if she doesn't want to hear the stories mammy is going to tell us."

"Yes, Miss Rosie, whar you s'pose Miss Gracie done gone?" drawled the little maid, standing quite still and pulling at one of the short woolly braids scattered here and there over her head.

"I don't know. Go and look for her," returned Rosie, somewhat imperiously. "Now hurry," she added, "or there won't be time for all mammy has to tell."

"Wisht I know whar Miss Gracie done gone," sighed Betty, reluctantly obeying.

"I saw her going upstairs," said Lulu; "so it's likely you'll find her in Mamma Vi's rooms."

At that Betty quickened her pace, and the next moment was at Violet's dressing-room door, peeping in and asking, "You dar, Miss Gracie?"

"Yes," Grace answered, turning toward her a face so full of gladness that Betty's eyes opened wide in astonishment, and stepping in she asked wonderingly, "What--what de mattah, Miss Gracie? yo' look like yo' done gone foun' a gol' mine, or jes' sumfin' mos' like dat."

"Better still, Betty: I've found the Lord Jesus; I love Him and He loves me," Gracie said, her eyes shining, "and oh, I am so glad, so happy!"

"Whar yo' fin' Him, Miss Gracie?" queried Betty in increasing wonder and astonishment, and glancing searchingly round the room. "Is He hyar?"

"Yes; for He is G.o.d and is everywhere."

"Oh, dat de way He hyar? Yes, I knows 'bout dat; Miss Elsie tole me lots ob times. How yo' know He lub yo', Miss Gracie?"

"Because He says so, Betty.

"'Jesus loves me; this I know, For the Bible tell me so.'"

"Yo's wanted down stairs, Miss Gracie," said Betty, bethinking herself of her errand. "Ole Aunt Chloe gwine tell 'bout old times when missus bery little and lib way off down Souf. Bettah come right 'long; kase Miss Rosie she in pow'ful big hurry fo' Aunt Chloe begin dat story."

"Oh yes; I never get tired hearing mammy tell that; Grandma Elsie was such a dear little girl," Grace said, making haste to obey the summons.

The others had already gathered closely about Aunt Chloe, but the circle promptly widened to receive Grace, and the moment she had taken her seat the story began, opening with the birth of its subject.

There were many little reminiscences of her infancy and early childhood, very interesting to all the listeners. The narrator dwelt at length upon the evidences of early piety shown in the child's life, and Aunt Chloe remarked, "Yo' needn't be 'fraid, chillens, ob bein' too good to lib: my darlin' was de bes' chile eber I see, and yo' know she has lib to see her chillen and her gran'chillens."

"I'm not at all afraid of it," remarked Rosie. "People who are certainly don't know or don't believe what the Bible teaches on that point; for it says, 'My son, forget not My law; but let thine heart keep My commandments; for length of days, and long life, and peace shall they add to thee.'"

"And there's a promise of long life and prosperity to all who keep the fifth commandment," said Max.

"'So far as it shall serve for G.o.d's glory and their own good,'" added Evelyn, softly.

"Dat's so, chillens," said Aunt Chloe; "an' yo' ole mammy hopes ebery one ob yo's gwine try it all de days ob yo' life."

"Yes, we're goin' to, mammy; so now tell us some more," said Walter, coaxingly; "tell about the time when the poor little girl that's my mamma now had to go away and leave her pretty home."

"Yaas, chile, dat wur a sad time," said the old woman, reflectively; "it mos' broke de little chile heart to hab to leab dat home whar she been borned, an' all de darkies dat lub her like dar life."

She went on to describe the parting, then to tell of the journey, and was just beginning with the life at Roselands, when the summons came to the tea-table.

"We'll come back to hear the rest after tea, mammy, if you're not too tired," Rosie said as she turned to go.

But on coming back they found no one on the veranda but Betty, who, in answer to their inquiries, said, "Aunt Chloe hab entired fo' de night; she hab de misery in de back and in de head, and she cayn't tell no mo'

stories fo' mawning."

"Poor old soul!" said Evelyn, compa.s.sionately; "I'm afraid we've tired her out."

"Oh no, not at all," answered Rosie; "she likes nothing better than talking about mamma. You never saw anything like her devotion; I verily believe she'd die for mamma without a moment's hesitation."

Most of the house-servants at Ion occupied cabins of their own at no great distance from the mansion, but Aunt Chloe, the faithful nurse of three generations, was domiciled in a most comfortable apartment not far from those of the mistress to whom she was so dear; and Elsie never laid her own head upon its pillow till she had paid a visit to mammy's room to see that she wanted for nothing that could contribute to ease of body or mind.

This night, stealing softly in, she found her lying with closed eyes and hands meekly folded across her breast, and, thinking she slept, would have gone away again as quietly as she came; but the loved voice recalled her.

"Dat yo', honey? Don' go; yo' ole mammy's got somefin to say; and de time is short, 'kase the chariot-wheels dey's rollin' fas', fas' dis way to carry yo' ole mammy home to glory."

"Dear mammy," Elsie said with emotion, laying her hand tenderly on the sable brow, "are you feeling weaker or in any way worse than usual?"

"Dunno, honey, but I hear de Master callin', an' I's ready to follow whereber He leads; eben down into de valley ob de shadow ob death. I's close to de riber; Is hear de soun' ob de wattahs ripplin' pas'; but de eberlastin' arms is underneath, an' I sho' to git safe ober to de oder side."

"Yes, dear mammy, I know you will," Elsie answered in moved tones. "I know you will come off more than conqueror through Him who loved you with an everlasting love."

"'Peat dat verse to yo' ole mammy, honey," entreated the trembling, feeble voice.

"What verse, mammy dear? 'Who shall separate us'?"

"Yes, darlin', dat's it! an' de res' dat comes after, whar de 'postle say he 'suaded dat deff nor nuffin else cayn't separate G.o.d's chillen from de love ob Christ."

Elsie complied, adding at the close of the quotation, "Such precious words! How often you and I have rejoiced over them together, mammy!"

"'Deed we hab, honey; an' we's gwine rejoice in dem togeder beside de great white throne. Now yo' go an' take yo' res', darlin', an' de Lawd gib yo' sweet sleep."

"I can't leave you, mammy if you are suffering; you must let me sit beside you and do what is in my power to relieve or help you to forget your pain."

"No, chile, no; de miseries am all gone an' I's mighty comfor'able, bery happy, too, hearin' de soun' ob de chariot-wheels and tinking I's soon be in de bressed lan' whar de miseries an' de sins am all done gone foreber; an' whar ole Uncle Joe an' de bressed Master is waitin' to 'ceive me wid songs ob joy and gladness."