One evening, after books and slates had been laid aside, my attention was attracted by a voice, liquid and rollicking, as it carolled a popular “spiritual.” In the gray room—for the light wood fire was nearly out, and the two lamps in the rear gave little brightness—it was some time before I distinguished the singer. He was a jaunty little man, very black, very lithe and very much dressed up. A blue round-a-bout coat was trimmed with two rows of yellow braid; a crimson dress braid made his neck-tie, the long ends of which floated over the shoulders. His hands were folded over a stout walking-stick; his head nodding and feet patting time to the music. My thoughts instantly went back to childish days, to a certain tree where a golden oriole’s nest used to swing, to a field of red-winged, chattering bobolinks, not one of which ever seemed so deliciously happy in his song as my dusky scholar. I liked to look at him. It put me into communion with friends and influences hundreds of miles beyond the piny woods. He often spoke and prayed in the regular prayer-meetings. We soon learned the words of his petition, for it was always in the same form, reverently intoned with an indescribable, inimitable cadence: “Our Father, who art in heaven, hollowed be thy name; thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as is in heaven. Father, Father—this evening—of all grace, look down upon us and hear us and bless us. O Saviour, come riding around this evening upon the milk-white horse and wake up sinners. Touch and tender about every heart. Teach ’em that they have a soul to be saved or to be lost to all eternity. Bless my old mother. Teach her that she has a soul to be saved or one to be lost to all eternity. Strike her with the hammer of conviction. Shoot her with the arrow of love. Bless families and families’ connections. Give us more grace, more faith, more love. Make us humble. Teach us to pray, and teach us to love it, too. Be our guide and leader and protector. Bless the sinners who are standing with one foot upon the grave and one upon the land of the living. “Father! Father! when Gabriel shall stand with one foot in the sea and one upon the land to blow his horn, and he shall say, ‘How loud must I sound?’ and Thou say, ‘Sound calm and easy so as not to disturb My children,’ then shall we link and lock our eagle wings to march upward to the golden gate. “And when You see us fail below, help us to say, ‘Here, Lord, I give myself away, ’tis all that I can do. Welcome dis solisted band and bear my soul away.’ And when You have done suiting and serving Thyself of us here, hand us to our graves in peace, where we shall praise the Father, Son and Holy Spirit in a world that never ends, is _my_ prayer for Jesus’ sake. Amen.” At that time this man was one of the more intelligent of his people.