"He's down to Mars' Nat's at the toll-gate cottage. 'Peahs like it's the
natch'el place for him to be. Neithah of 'em's got anybody else, and
it's kind a like old times when they was chillun, play in' round the big
house togethah. I stopped in to see him yestiddy. The cup Mis' Alice
gave him was a-settin' on the mantel, an' Mars' Nat was stewin' up some
sawt of cough tonic for him. The white folks up Nawth must a thought a
heap of him. He'd just got a lettah from one of the college professahs
'quirin' bout his health. Mars' Nat read out what was on the back of it:
'Rev'und Gawge W. Chadwick, an' some lettahs on the end that I kain't
remembah. An' he said, laughin'-like, sezee, 'well, Uncle Billy, you'd
nevah take that as meanin' Jintsey's boy, would you now? It's a mighty
fine soundin' title,' sezee. Gawge gave a little moanful sawt of smile,
same as to say, well, aftah all, it wasn't wuth what it cost him. An' it
wasn't! No, it wasn't," repeated Uncle Billy, solemnly shaking the ashes
from his pipe. "What's the good of a head full of book learnin' with a
poah puny body that kaint tote it around?"

Somehow, Uncle Billy's solemn declaration, "he have fought a good
fight," associated this colored preacher, in John Jay's simple little
mind, with soldiers and fierce battles and a great victory. He lay back
on his pillow, wishing they would go on talking about this man who had
suddenly become such a hero in his boyish eyes. But their talk gradually
drifted to the details of Mrs. Watson's last illness. He had heard them
so many times that he soon felt his eyelids slowly closing. Then he
dozed for a few minutes, awakening with a start. They had gotten as far
as the funeral now, and were discussing the sermon. They would soon be
commenting on the way that each member of the family "took her death."
That was so much more interesting, he thought he would just close his
eyes again for a moment, until they came to that.