I had gone into the little desolate cabin, which was now consecrated by the presence of the dead. There _she_ lay, cold and ashen; and the long white strip that I had thrown over her was too thin to conceal the face. It was an old muslin curtain that I had found in looking over the boxes of the deceased, and out of respect had flung it over the remains. So rigid and hard-set seemed her features in that last, deep sleep, so tightly locked were those bony fingers, so mournful looked the straightened, stiffened form, so devoid of speculation the half-closed eyes, that I turned away with a shudder, saying inwardly: "Oh, death, thou art revolting!" Yet when I bethought me of the peace passing human understanding into which she had gone, the safe bourne that she had attained, "where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest;" when I thought of this, death lost its horror, and the grave its gloom. Oh, Eternity, problem that the living can never solve. Oh, death, full of victory to the Christian! wast thou not, to my old and weary friend, a messenger of sweet peace; and was not the tomb a gateway to new and undreamed-of happiness? Yes, so will I believe; for so believing am I made joyful. Relieved thus by faith from the burden of grief, I moved gently about the room, trying to bring something like order to its ragged appearance; for Jake, who had been dispatched for Doctor Mandy to come and see young master, had met on the way a colored preacher, to whom he announced Aunt Polly's death, and who had promised to come and preach a funeral sermon, and attend the burial. This was to the other negroes a great treat; they regarded a funeral as quite a gala occasion, inasmuch as we had never had such a thing upon the farm. I had my own doubts, though I did not express them, whether master would permit it. Young master still slept, from the strong effects of the sleeping potion which had been administered to him. Miss Bradly, overcome by the night's watching, dozed in a large chair beside the bed, and an open Bible, in which she had been reading, lay upon her lap. The blinds were closed, but the dim light of a small fire that blazed on the hearth gave some appearance of life to the room. Every one who passed in and out, stepped on tip-toe, as if fearful of arousing the sleeper. Oh, the comfort of a white skin! No darkened room, no comfortable air, marked the place where she my friend had died. No hushed dread nor whispered voice paid respect to the cabin-room where lay her dead body; but, thanks to God, in the morning of the resurrection we shall come forth alike, regardless of the distinctions of color or race, each one to render a faithful account of the deeds done in the body. Mr. Peterkin came to the kitchen-door, and called Nace, saying: "Where is that old store-box that the goods and domestics for the house was fetched home in, from L----, last fall?" "It's in de smoke-house, Masser." "Wal, go git it, and bury ole Poll in it."