bells. Tell all de boys to meet me in heben; dat dey mus' 'list in de hebenly war."
"O, Mr. Tom," said Iola, tenderly, "do not talk of leaving me. You are the best friend I have had since I was torn from my mother. I should be so lonely without you."
"Dere's a frien' dat sticks closer dan a brudder. He will be wid yer in de sixt' trial, an' in de sebbent' he'll not fo'sake yer."
"Yes," answered Iola, "I know that. He is all our dependence. But I can't help grieving when I see you suffering so. But, dear friend, be quiet, and try to go to sleep."
"I'll do enythin' fer yer, Miss Iola."
Tom closed his eyes and lay quiet. Tenderly and anxiously Iola watched over him as the hours waned away. The doctor came, shook his head gravely, and, turning to Iola, said, "There is no hope, but do what you can to alleviate his sufferings."
As Iola gazed upon the kind but homely features of Tom, she saw his eyes open and an unexpressed desire upon his face.
Tenderly and sadly bending over him, with tears in her dark, luminous eyes, she said, "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yes," said Tom, with laboring breath; "let me hole yore han', an' sing 'Ober Jordan inter glory' an' 'We'll anchor bye and bye.'"
Iola laid her hand gently in the rough palm of the dying man, and, with a tremulous voice, sang the parting hymns.
Tenderly she wiped the death damps from his dusky |
