fairest and brightest flowers to spread around the couch of their
beloved teacher. Some kissed her, and others threw themselves beside the
corpse and wept bitter, burning tears. All shared in Louis' grief, for
all had lost a dear, good friend and loving instructor.

Louis summoned all the energies of his soul to bear his mournful loss.
It was his task to bow to the Chastener, and let his loved one go,
feeling that when he had laid her in the earth that he left her there in
the hope of a better resurrection.

Life with its solemn responsibilities still met him; its earnest duties
still confronted him, and, though he sometimes felt like a weary watcher
at the gates of death, longing to catch a glimpse of her shining robes
and the radiant light of her glorified face, yet her knew it was his
work to labor and to wait.

Sorrow and danger still surrounded his way, and he felt his soul more
strongly drawn out than ever to share the fortunes of the colored race.
He felt there were grand possibilities stored up in their future. The
name of the negro had been associated with slavery, ignorance and
poverty, and he determined as far as his influence could be exerted to
lift that name from the dust of the centuries and place it among the
most honored names in the history of the human race.

He still remained in the South, for Minnie's grave had made the South to
him a sacred place, a place in which to labor and to wait until peace
like bright dew should descend where carnage had spread ruin around, and
freedom and justice, like glorified angels, should reign triumphant
where violence and slavery had held their fearful carnival of shame and
crime for ages. Earnestly he set himself to bring around the hour when