soul, some of the older ones keeping time with a swinging motion of
their bodies, and one old lady in her enthusiasm bringing down her fist
upon the doorstep, on which she was sitting, and shouting in a way which
warned Jake of danger. He knew the signs, and putting down the little
girl, who had fallen asleep in his lap, he went to the old negress, who
was beginning to get under full headway, and holding her uplifted arm,
said to her:

"Hush, Aunt Judy, hush; this ain't no place to have the pow'. This ain't
a pra'r meetin'; tis a 'Piscopal funeral, this is, such as they have in
Virginny."

What Judy might have said is uncertain, for there came a diversion in
the scene. The child had followed Jake to the door, where she stood
wide-eyed and attentive, and when the last words of the hymn ended, she
sang in a clear, shrill voice, "Be joyful when we meet to part no more."
Her voice was singularly sweet and full, and Mr. Mason said to himself,
"She'll be a singer some day, if she is not crazy first." Nothing now
could keep old Judy from one more burst, and her "Yes, thank de Lawd,
we'll meet to part no mo'," rang out like a clarion, and the religious
services were over.

There still remained what was the most interesting part to the
audience--taking leave of the corpse--and for a few minutes the sobs,
and cries, and ejaculations were bewildering to Mr. Mason, who had never
had an experience of this kind. Jake quieted the tumult as soon as
possible, reminding the people again that this was a first-class
'Piscopal funeral, such as the quality had in Virginny. The old
grandmother was led to the coffin by Mandy Ann, who shook her up and
told her to look at Miss Dory, but not cry much, if she could help it.