“And she was at my house yesterday,” said another.  “She cum’d to see if I wanted any ting, and I tell’d her I would like to hab a little flannel, ’cause I had the rheumatiz so bad, and she said I should hab it.  Den she asked me if I didn’t like freedom best.  I told her I would rather live in a corn crib, and so I would.  It is hard getting along, but I hopes for better times.  And den she took down de Bible, and read wid dat sweet voice of hers, about de eagle stirring up her nest, and den she said when de old eagle wanted her young to fly she broked up de nest, and de little eagles didn’t known what was de matter, but some how dey didn’t feel so cumfertable, ’cause de little twigs and sticks stuck in ’em, and den dey would work dere wings, and dat was de way she said we must do; de ole nest of slavery was broke up, but she said we mus’n’t get discouraged, but we must plume our wings for higher flying.  Oh she did tell it so purty.  I wish I could say it like she did, it did my heart so much good.  Poor thing, she done gone and folded her wing in de hebenly mansion.  I wish I was ’long side of her, but I’se bound to meet her, ’cause I’m gwine to set out afresh for heben and ’ternal glory.”

And thus did these stricken children of sorrow unconsciously comfort the desolate and almost breaking heart of Louis Lacroix.  And their words of love and hope were like rays of light shimmering amid the gloomy shadows that overhung his suddenly darkened life.

Surely, thought Louis, if the blessings and tears of the poor and needy and the prayers of him who was ready to perish would crystalize a path to the glory-land, then Minnie’s exit from earth must have been over a bridge of light, above whose radiant arches hovering angels would delight to bend.

While these thoughts were passing through his mind, a knock was heard at the door, and Louis rose to open it, and then he saw a sight which shook all his gathered firmness to tears.  Headed by the eldest of Minnie’s scholars came a procession of children, each one bearing a bunch of fairest and brightest flowers to spread around the couch of their beloved teacher.  Some kissed her, and others threw themselves beside the corpse and wept bitter, burning tears.  All shared in Louis’ grief, for all had lost a dear, good friend and loving instructor.

Louis summoned all the energies of his soul to bear his mournful loss.  It was his task to bow to the Chastener, and let his loved one go, feeling that when he had laid her in the earth that he left her there in the hope of a better resurrection.

Life with its solemn responsibilities still met him; its earnest duties still confronted him, and, though he sometimes felt like a weary watcher at the gates of death, longing to catch a glimpse of her shining robes and the radiant light of her glorified face, yet her knew it was his work to labor and to wait.

Sorrow and danger still surrounded his way, and he felt his soul more strongly drawn out than ever to share the fortunes of the colored race.  He felt there were grand possibilities stored up in their future.  The name of the negro had been associated with slavery, ignorance and poverty, and he determined as far as his influence could be exerted to lift that name from the dust of the centuries and place it among the most honored names in the history of the human race.