I wisht I could weep, Lawd, I wisht I could weep,
Oh, I wisht I could weep like Mary Mahgaleen!

Oh, Sorroh! sweet Sorroh! come, welcome, and stay!
I'd welcome thy swode howsomever so keen,
If I could jes' pray, Lawd, if I could jes' pray,
Oh! if I could jes' pray, like Mary Mahgaleen!


My belief was confirmed, I say; but I was glad to see also that no one
else read as I read the signs by which I was guided. At the cemetery gate
I heard some one call--"Yo' madam is sick, sih," and, turning, saw Mrs.
Fontenette, deathly white, lift her blue eyes to her husband and he get
his arm about her just in time to save her from falling. She swooned but a
moment, and, in the carriage, before it started off, tried to be quite
herself, though very pale.

"It's nothing but the reaction," said to me the lady who fanned her, and
we agreed it was a wonder she had held up so long.

"Hyeh, honey," put in the child's old black nurse, in a voice that never
failed to soothe, however grotesque its misinterpretations, "lay yo' head
on me; an' lay it heavy: dass what I'm use-en to. Blessed is de pyo in
haht; she shall res' in de fea' o' de Lawd, an' he shall lafe at heh
calamity."

I was glad to send the old woman with them, for as we turned away to our
own carriage, I said in my mind, "All that little lady needs is enough
contrition, and she'll give away the total of any secret of which she owns
an undivided half."