When through with his exhortation the old preacher knelt down on the box which served as his pulpit and offered a fervent petition.  From the loud “amens” and “’lujahs” he evidently voiced the honest feeling of the hour in his dusky audience.  Scoville was visibly affected at the reference to him.  “May de deah Lawd bress de young Linkum ossifer,” rose Uncle Lusthah’s tones, loud, yet with melodious power and pathos, for he was gifted with a voice of unusual compass, developed by his calling.  “He des took he life in he hand en come down in de lan’ ob de shadder, de gret, dark shadder dat’s been restin’ on de hearts ob de slabes.  We had no fader, no muder, no wife, no chile.  Dey didn’t ’long to we fer dey cud be sole right out’n our arms en we see dem no mo’.  De gret shadder ob slav’y swallow dem up.  Young mars’r face de bullit, face de so’ed, face de curse ter say we free.  May de Lawd be he shiel’ en buckler, compass ‘im roun’ wid angel wings, stop de han’ riz ter strike, tu’n away de bullit aim at he heart.  May de Lawd brung ’im gray hars at las lak mine, so he see, en his chil’n see, en our chil’n see de ’liverance he hep wrought out.

“En dar’s young mistis.  She hab a heart ter feel fer de po’ slabe.  She al’ays look kin’ at us, en she stood ’tween us en woun’s en death; w’en all was agin us en she in de watehs ob triberlation hersef, she say ‘fo’ dem all, ‘No harm come ter us.’  She put her lil w’ite arm roun’ her ole mammy.” ("Dat she did,” cried Aun’ Jinkey, who was swaying back and forth where the fire lit up her wrinkled visage, “en de gret red welt on her shol’er now.”) “She took de blow,” continued Uncle Lusthah, amid groans and loud lamentations, “en de Lawd, wid whose stripes we healed, will bress her en hab aready bressed her en brung her ’liverance ‘long o’ us.  May He keep her eyes fum teahs, en her heart fum de breakin’ trouble; may He shine on a path dat lead ter all de bes’ tings in dis yere worl’ en den ter de sweet home ob heb’n!”

When the voice of Uncle Lusthah ceased Scoville heard a low sob from Miss Lou at his side and he was conscious that tears stood in his own eyes.  His heart went out in strong homage to the young girl to whom such tribute had been paid and her heart thrilled at the moment as she distinguished his deep “amen” in the strong, general indorsement of the petition in her behalf.

Then rose a hymn which gathered such volume and power that it came back in echoes from distant groves.

“Hark, hark, I year a soun’.  Hit come fum far away; Wake, wake, en year de soun’ dat come fum far away.  De night am dark, de night been long, but dar de mawnin’ gray; En wid de light is comin’ sweet a soun’ fum far away.

“Look how de light am shinin’ now across de gret Red Sea.  On Egypt sho’ we stay no mo’ in slabing misery.  Ole Pharaoh year de voice ob God, ‘Des set my people free;’ En now we march wid song en shout, right troo the gret Red Sea.”