And the months went by, and a beautiful babe was born to be king after him. And he said, "Now at length the bell shall ring." But just then came word that a terrible sickness raged among the children of the kingdom, that many mothers were mourners, and their hearts could not be comforted.
And the years rolled by, and the king was a great and good man, kind to his people, sharing their sorrows, and, so far as he could, lifting their burdens. The days were so full of thought and work, that he did not think of the bell, or of his own happiness.
At last he too lay dying; and when he knew that the end was drawing near, he asked to be carried to the room of state, and to be placed once more upon his throne, that his people might come to see him. And they crowded in, rich and poor, high and low, kissing his hands, his feet, and even the hem of his garment. And when he saw them so grief-stricken and tearful, a great light came into his dim eyes; and, lifting his trembling arms, in a clear voice he cried, "Ring the silver bell! ring the bell! My people love me; at last I am happy!" And as, for the first time, the bell pealed forth its ringing notes, his spirit took its flight to the unseen land.—Mrs. Julia D. Pratt, in The Dayspring.
Old Moses, who sells eggs and chickens on the streets of Austin for a living, is as honest an old negro as ever lived; but he has got the habit of chatting familiarly with his customers, hence he frequently makes mistakes in counting out the eggs they buy. He carries his wares around in a small cart drawn by a diminutive donkey. He stopped in front of the residence of Mrs. Samuel Burton. The old lady herself came out to the gate to make the purchases.
"Have you got any eggs this morning, Uncle Moses?" she asked.
"Yes, indeed I has. Jess got in ten dozen from de kentry."
"Are they fresh?"
"Fresh? yas, indeed ! I guantees 'em, an'—an'—de hen guantees 'em."