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NEGRO LIFE tN AMERICA. $11

and, raising himself on one elbow, watched her as she paced rest-
lessly up and down, her long black hair swaying heavily about her
as she moved.

‘You tell me,”’ she said, after a pause, ‘‘ that there is a God—
a God that looks down and sees all these things. Maybe it’s so.
The sisters in the convent used to tell me of a day of judgment,
when everything is coming to light; won't there be vengeance
then !

“They think it’s nothing what we suffer—nothing what our
children suffer! It’s all a small matter; yet I’ve walked the
streets when it seemed as if I had misery enough in my one heart
to sink the city. I’ve wished the houses would fall on me, or the
stones sink under me. Yes! and in the judgment-day I will
stand up before God, a witness against those that have ruined me
and my children, body and soul !

“When I was a girl I thought I was religious; I used to love
God and prayer. Now I’m a lost soul, pursued by devils that
torment me day and night; they keep pushing me on and on—
and I'll do it, too, some of these days!” she said, clenching her
hand, while an insane light glanced in her heavy black eyes.
‘T’'ll send him where he belongs—a short way too—one of these
nights, if they burn me alive for it!” A wild, long laugh rang
through the deserted room, and ended in a hysteric sob ; she
threw herself on the floor in convulsive sobbings and struggles.

In a few moments the frenzy fit seemed to pass off; she rose
slowly, and seemed to collect herself.

“Can I do anything more for you, my poor fellow?” she said, |

approaching where Tom lay ; “shall I give you some more water 2”

There was a graceful and compassionate sweetness in her voice
and manner, as she said this, that formed a strange contrast with
the former wildness.

Tom drank the water, and looked earnestly and pitifully into
her face.

“© missis, I wish you'd go to Him that can give you living
waters.”

“Goto him! Where is he? Who is he?” said Cassy.

‘“ Him that you read of to me—the Lord.”

“T used to see the picture of him over the altar, when I was a
girl,” said Cassy, her dark eyes fixing themselves in an expression
of mournful reverie; “but he isn’t here! there’s nothing here
but sin, and long, long, long despair! Oh!” She laid her hand
on her breast and drew in her breath, as if to lift a heavy weight.

Tom looked as if he would speak again, but she cut him short
with a decided gesture.

“ Don't talk, my poor fellow. Try to sleep if you can.” And,
placing water in his reach, and making whatever little arrange-
ments for his comfort she could, Cassy left the shed.

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