“Wall,” sez Josiah, “it wuz most probable the lamp.”
“She hadn’t lighted one,” sez Snow.
“Wall, it wuz most probable sunthin’,” sez Josiah.
And I sez, “I presume so.”
And I felt that it wuz.
Wall, while this happy glow wuz still a shinin’ in Genieve’s eyes,
Victor wuz a settin’ down below. Genieve had gone across the garden to
bid baby Tommy good-bye.
When I went down agin Victor wuz a settin’ by the open window of the
settin’ room.
It wuz a lovely night, as I could see plain, for the big windows wuz
wide open and the moon shone bright in the east, while yet the rosy
glow had not faded out of the western sky.
I sot down with my knittin’ work, and as I sot there a peacefully
seamin’ three and one on Josiah’s sock, I see a little white bird come
a flyin’ along from towards the clump of roses and magnolias that riz
up over little Belle Fanchon’s grave.
It flew along most to the window, and settled down on a wavin’ rose
branch, and there it swung back and forth and sung a sweet sort of a
invitin’ song. And into its liquid notes seemed to be blent sunthin’
sad and sort o’ comfortin’, and sunthin’ high, and inspirin’, and glad.
I thought I had seen and hearn most every kind of song bird sence I had
been South; but thinkses I to myself, I don’t believe I ever see a bird
that looked exactly like that, or heard a song that wuz quite so sweet,
so sad.
It sot there for all the world as if it wuz a waitin’ for sunthin’.
I didn’t say nuthin’, but I couldn’t help watchin’ it. I felt queer.
Bimeby Victor came up the steps and come in—he had been down on the
lawn for a flower for Genieve—and bein’ startled by him, I spoze, the
bird flew up a little ways onto a branch that hung over the porch, and
kep’ on with that same plaintive, sweet song, and it had that same air
as if it wuz a waitin’, waitin’ for somebody or sunthin’.
But pretty soon Maggie come in, and Victor begun to tell us how all
his preparations wuz completed, and about his plans, and his hopes,
etc., and I got all took up with ’em, and then I had to set my heel—or
ruther Josiah’s heel, and that takes up sights of mind and intellect to
do it jest right.
And jest as I got it set, in come Snow, the precious darlin’, with her
youngest dolly in her arms.
She made me kiss it good-night. I didn’t really want to, its face wuz
pasty and bare in patches, but I done it, and got two kisses from
Snow’s sweet little lips to take the taste out of my mouth.
And as I had kissed the doll affectionate and accordin’ to her wishes,
she put up her little hand to my face in that sweet caress she always
gin me when she wuz real satisfied and happy with what I had done, or
when I felt bad about anything.
And as I bent my head for that lovin’ and tender caress, oh, how joyful
and clear that bird’s song did sound through the twilight; it rung out
as if whatever it wuz waitin’ for had come nigh it, and its little
lonesome heart wuz full of content and joy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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