But as I sot there with tears on my cheeks and a smile on my lips—for I wuzn’t onhappy, not at all, though the tears wuz in my eyes through thinkin’ of such a number of things—all at once a light low breeze swept up gently from the south or down from the glowin’ heavens—anyway it come—and swept lovingly and kind o’ lingeringly, as if with some old lovin’ memory, over the posies in the door-yard, and sort o’ waved the sweet bells of the mornin’ glories, and fell on my forehead and cheek like a soft, consolin’ little hand. It sort o’ stayed there and caressed me, and brushed my hair back, and then touched my cheek, and then—wuz gone. * * * * * TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. 1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors. 2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. End of Project Gutenberg's Samantha on the Race Problem, by Marietta Holley