voice, sent the class away humbled, subdued, comforted, and willing to wait the day of clearer light. The class was closed with prayer and singing. As a kind of treat, the last sing ing was a hymn, and they stood up to sing it. It was Perronet's great hymn sung to old Coronation; and when they came to the refrain, "Crown Him Lord of all," the very rafters of the little church rang with the mighty volume of sound. The Bible class always closed with a great outburst of singing, and as a rule Ranald went out tingling and thrilling through and through. But to-night, so deeply was he exercised with the unhappy doom of the unfortunate king of Egypt, from which, apparently, there was no escape, fixed as it was by the divine decree, and oppressed with the feeling that the same decree would determine the course of his life, he missed his usual thrill. He was walking off by himself in a perplexed and downcast mood, avoiding every one, even Don, and was nearly past the minister's gate when Hughie, excited and breathless, caught up to him and exclaimed: "Oh, Ranald, was not that splendid? Man, I like to hear John Aleck' sing 'Crown Him' that way. And I say," he continued, "mother wants you to come in." Then, all at once, Ranald remembered the young man who had behaved so disgracefully in the church. "No," he said, firmly, "I must be hurrying home. The cows will be to milk yet." 66 "Oh, pshaw! you must come," pleaded Hughie ; we will have some singing. I want you to sing bass. Perhaps John 'Aleck' will come in." This was sheer guessing, but it was good bait. But the young man with "his head split in the middle" would be there, and perhaps Maimie would be "going on " with him as she did in the Bible class. "You will tell your mother I could not come," he said. "Yankee and father are both out, and there will be no one at home." "Well, I think you are pretty mean," said Hughie, grievously disappointed. "I wanted you to come in, and mother wanted Cousin Harry to see you." "Cousin Harry?" 'Indeed, he looks it, I am sure," Ranald said with sudden enthusiasm. "I would just like to know him if I thought Yankee would—” "Oh, pshaw! Of course Yankee will milk the cows," exclaimed Hughie. “Come on, come on in!" And Ranald went to meet one of the great nights of his life. "Here is Ranald," called Hughie at the top of his voice, as he entered the room where the family were gathered. "You don't say so, Hughie?" answered his cousin, coming forward. his cousin, coming forward. "You ought to make that fact known. We all want to hear it." Ranald liked him from the first. He was not a bit "proud" in spite of his fine clothes and his hair being "split in the middle." "You're the chap," he said, stretching out his hand to Ranald, "that snatched Maimie from the fire. Mighty clever thing to do. We have heard a lot about you at our house. Why, every week-" "Let some one else talk, Harry," interrupted Maimie, with cheeks flaming. "We are going to have some singing now. Here is auntie. Mayn't we use the piano?" "Why, yes, I suppose so," said Mrs. Murray. "I was glad to see your father there to-night," she said to Ranald. "And bully good bass, too," cried Hughie. "John Aleck' says that it's the finest bass in the whole singing-school." "Well, Hughie," said his mother, quietly, "I don't think it is necessary to shout even such pleasant information as that. Now go to your singing, and I shall listen." She lay back in the big chair, looking so pale and weary that Harry hardly believed it was the same woman that had just been keeping a hundred and fifty "Yes. Maimie's brother came last people keenly alert for an hour and a half, and leading them with such intellectual and emotional power. That class is too hard for you, auntie," he said. "If I were your husband, I would not let you keep it on." "But you see my husband is not here. He is twelve miles away." "Then I would lock you up, or take you with me." "Oh!" cried Hughie, "I would much rather teach the Bible class than listen to another sermon.” "Something in that," said his cousin, "especially if I were the preacher, eh?" at which they all laughed. He It was a happy hour for Ranald. had been too shy to join the singing-school, and had never heard any part singing till he began to attend the Bible class. There he made the delightful discovery that, without any instruction, he could join in the bass, and had made also the further discovery that his voice, which he had thought rough and coarse, and for a year past worse than ever, could reach to extraordinary depths. One Sabbath evening it chanced that John " Aleck," who always had an ear open for a good voice, heard him rolling out his deep bass, and, seizing him on the spot, had made him promise to join the singing-school. There he discovered a talent and developed a taste for singing that delighted his leader's heart and opened out to himself a new world. Since Maimie's coming the piano had been in daily use, and even on the Sabbath days, though not without danger to the sensibilities of the neighbors, she had used it to accompany the hymns with which the day always closed. "Let us have the parts," cried Hughie. "Maimie and I will take the air, and Ranald will take the bass. Cousin Harry, can you sing?" “Oh, I'll hum.” now and then she would join with the others, singing alto when she did so, by Hughie's especial direction. Her voice. was not strong, but it was true, mellow, and full of music. Hughie loved to hear her sing alto, and more especially because he liked to join in with her, which he was too shy to do alone, even in his home, and which he would never think of doing in the Bible class or in the presence of any of the boys, who might, for this reason, think him "proud." When they came to Hughie's turn, he chose the hymn by Bliss, recently published, “Whosoever Will." The words seemed to strike him to-night. 666 Oh, I did not say that.” "The Lord hardened Pharaoh's heart,' quoted Ranald, who knew his Bible better than Harry. "Yes, that's it," said Harry, "and so that made it impossible for Pharaoh to do anything else. He could not help follow "Nonsense!" said Maimie; "he sings ing after those people." tenor splendidly." "Oh, that's fine," cried Hughie, with delight. He himself was full of music. "Come on, Ranald, you stand up behind Maimie. You will need to see the notes, and I will sit here," planting himself beside his mother. So Hughie arranged it all, and for an hour the singing went on, the favorite hymns of each being sung in turn. For the most part, Mrs. Murray sat silent, but 66 Why not?" said Mrs. Murray. "What made him follow? Now, just think, what made him follow after those people?" Why, he wanted to get them back," said Hughie. “So, "Quite true," said his mother. you see, he did exactly as he wanted to." 66 Then, you mean, the Lord had nothing to do with it?" asked Ranald. "No, I could not say that." "Then," said Harry, "Pharaoh could not help himself. Now could he?" "He did what he wished to do," said his aunt. "Yes," said Ranald, quickly, "but could he help wishing to do what he did?" "If he had been a different man, more humble-minded, and more willing to be taught, he would not have wished to do what he did." "Mother," said Hughie, changing his ground a little and lowering his voice, "do you think Pharaoh is lost, and all his soldiers, and—and all the people who were bad?" Mrs. Murray looked at him in silence for a few moments, then said, very sadly: "I can't answer that question, Hughie. I do not know." 66 "But, mother," persisted Hughie, " are not wicked people lost?" "Yes, Hughie," replied his mother. "All those who do not repent of their sins and cry to God for mercy." "Oh, mother," cried Hughie," forever?" His mother did not reply. "Will He never let them out, mother?" continued Hughie in piteous appeal. "Listen to me, Hughie," said his mother, very gently. "We know very little about this. Would you be very sorry, even for very bad men ?” "Oh, mother," cried Hughie, his tender little heart moved with a great compassion, "think of a whole year, all summer long and all winter long! I think I would let anybody out." "Then, Hughie, dear," said his mother, "remember that God is much kinder than you are, and has a far more tender heart, and he will do nothing unkind, you may be quite sure of that. Do not forget how he gave up his own dear Son for us." Poor Hughie could bear it no longer. He put his head in his mother's lap and sobbed out: "Oh, mother, I hope he will let them out !" As he uttered this pitiful little cry his cousin Harry got up from his chair and moved across to the window, while Maimie openly wiped her eyes; but Ranald sat, with his face set hard and his eyes gleaming, waiting eagerly for Mrs. Murray's answer. The mother stroked Hughie's head softly, and, while her tears fell on the brown curls, said to him: "You would not be afraid to trust your mother, Hughie; and our Father in heaven loves us all much more than I love you," and with that Hughie was con tent. "Now let us sing one more hymn," said his mother. "It's my choice," and she chose one of the new hymns which they had just learned in the singingschool, and of which Hughie was very fond-the children's hymn, "Come to the Saviour." While they were singing, they heard Mr. Murray drive into the yard. "There's papa," said Mrs. Murray. "He will be tired and hungry," and she hurried out to meet her husband, followed by Harry and Hughie, leaving Ranald and Maimie in the room together. Ranald had never been alone with her before, nor indeed had he ever spent five minutes of his life alone with any girl before now. But he did not feel awkward or shy; he was thinking now, as he had been thinking now and then through the whole evening, of only one thing that Maimie was going away. That would make a great difference to him, so great that he was conscious of a heart-sinking at the mere thought of it. During the last weeks his life had come to move about a center, and that center was Maimie; and now that she was going away, there would be nothing left-nothing, that is, that really mattered. But the question he was revolving in his mind. was, Would she forget all about him? He knew he would never forget her; that was of course impossible, for so many things would remind him of her. He would never see the sunlight falling through the trees. as it fell that night of the sugaring-off, without thinking of her. He would never see the shadows in the evening, or hear the wind in the leaves, without thinking of her. The church and the minister's pew, the manse and all belonging to it, would remind him of Maimie. He would recall how she looked at different times and places, the turn of her head, the way her hair fell on her neck, her laugh, the little toss of her chin and the curve in her lips. He would remember everything about her. Would she remember him? or would she forget him? That was the question burning in his heart; and that question he must have settled, and this was the time. But though these thoughts and emotions were rushing through his brain and blood, he felt strangely quiet and self-controlled as he walked over to her where she stood beside the piano, and, looking into her eyes with an intensity of gaze that she could not meet, said, in a low, quick voice, "You are going away?" "Yes," she replied, so startled that the easy smile with which she had greeted him faded out of her face. "In two weeks I shall be gone." "Gone!" echoed Ranald. "Glad?" echoed Maimie again, not knowing what to say. "Yes, glad," he said, exultantly. "Are you?" She made no reply. The door opened behind them. She sank down upon the piano-stool and let her hands fall upon the keys. "Are you?" he demanded, ignoring the interruption. With her head low down, while she struck the chords of the hymn they had just sung, she said, hesitatingly: “I am not sorry." 66 66 Yes, you will be gone. Will you forget me?" His tone was almost stern. "Why, no," she said in a surprised voice," of course not. Did you not save my life? You will be far more likely to forget me." "No," he said simply, as if that possibility need not be considered. "I will never forget you. I will always be thinking of you. Will you think of me?" he persisted. "Why, certainly. Wouldn't I be a very ungrateful girl if I did not ?" "Ungrateful!" exclaimed Ranald, impatiently. "What I did was nothing. Forget that. Do you not understand me? I will be thinking of you every day, in the morning and at night, and I never thought of any one else for a day. Will you be thinking of me?" There was a movement in the kitchen, and they could hear the minister talking to Harry; and some one was moving toward the door. "Tell me, Maimie, quick," said Ranald, and, though his voice was intense and stern, there was appeal in it as well. She took a step nearer him, and, looking up into his face, said in a whisper : "Yes, Ranald, I will always remember you, and think of you." Swiftly, almost fiercely, he threw his arms about her and kissed her lips; then he stood back looking at her. "I could not help it," he said, boldly; "you made me." "Made you?" exclaimed Maimie, her face hot with blushes. "Yes, you made me. I could not help it," he repeated, "and I do not care if you are angry. I am glad I did it.” Sorry for what?" said Harry. 'Oh, nothing," said Maimie, lightly. Nobody is, if he has got any sense." Then Mrs. Murray came in. 66 "Won't you stay for supper, Ranald? You must be hungry." 66 'No, thank you," said Ranald; “I must go now." He shook hands with an ease and freedom that the minister had never seen in him, and went out. "That young man is coming on," said the minister. "I never saw any one change and develop as he has in the last few months. Let me see. He is only sixteen, isn't he? and he might be twentyone." The minister spoke as if he were not too well pleased with this precocity in Ranald. But little did Ranald care. That young man was striding homeward through the night, his head striking the stars. His path lay through the woods, and when he came to the "sugar camp" road he stood still and let the memories of the night when he had snatched Maimie from the fire troop through his mind. Suddenly he thought of Aleck McRae, and laughed aloud. "Poor Aleck !" he said. Aleck seemed so harmless to him now. And then he stood silent, motionless, looking straight toward the stars, but seeing them not. He was remembering Maimie's face when she said, "Yes, Ranald, I will always remember you, and think of you,” and then the thought of what followed sent the blood jumping through his veins. "She will not forget," he said aloud, and went on his way. It was his happy night, the happiest of his life thus far, and he would always be happy. What difference could anything make! [TO BE CONTINUED] I By W. E. Burghardt Du Bois black men because of their blackness and because of the sins of others. A wise government left its wards defenseless before the tempest. What can picture the result better than this? Dollars (millions) Na commonwealth as large as England and Wales live nearly a million black folk beside more than a million whites. Forty thousand of the fathers of these whites owned a half-million of the fathers and mothers of the blacks-owned them body and soul, bought them and sold them, and won wealth from their unpaid toil. Then, in a whirl of passion. and blood, all this was changed, and angry, bankrupt masters looked askance upon 466,000 freedmen. The black people looked confidently northward for something in the line of mules and land. For one cannot live on bare freedom, and little else was in sight, save the grim old Negro master. But the something did not come. To be sure, some marshy islands, half swallowed by the sea, were given to the freedmen, and part of them taken back again. Confiscated plantations were leased, but afterward had to be surrendered, so that by 1864 the freedmen had a bit of land, some bounty money, and their hands. This story is to tell how the Georgia negro, thus launched alone on turbulent seas, went to work to save something for himself and his children. In the first decade-1864 to 1874-he accumulated rapidly. A new enthusiasm burned in his soul; it seemed so strange a thing to call himself his own. The master was He saw the end of an discouraged. era, and mistook it for the end of the world. Some sold their land cheaply to the negroes, others gave it away to favorite old slaves, in half-amused, half-bitter doubt. The Freedmen's Bureau helped and hindered. So in those first ten years Georgia negroes secured 340,000 acres of land and over four million dollars' worth of other property. Not that the land was of much account-it averaged but $4 an acre or the rest of the property very desirable; still, it was a good beginning. Then came stormy times. There was the Ku Klux Klan, the withdrawal of the Freedmen's Bureau, the panic of 1873, and the rise in the South of a new hatred of The detailed statistics upon which this article is based are to be found in the author's contribution to the United States Bulletin of Labor for July, 1901, 7 property> owned in Georgia By 1880 conditions began to improve. Political troubles lessened, law and order prevailed to a larger extent, and, above all, economic forces were shaping themselves in this great undeveloped land. Cotton, which had been sinking steadily from the famine prices of war time to 101⁄2 cents a pound in the seventies, now rose suddenly again. The phrase "New South" crept into conversation, and the black laborers of Georgia spat on their hands and began to dig again. It was a wonderful spurt they made in saving in the following decade. Few peasantries can show a like record. In twelve years they increased their property in Georgia one hundred and sixty per cent., or from less than six to fifteen millions of dollars. Dollars (millions) Negro owned in Georgia |