When she had done all, she did not know what to do for some
ornament, till at last a brilliant thought came across her mind, and
she adopted it.
Wherever Agnes used to go she always carried a small basket containing
little useful articles, together with a pocket Bible, out of which she
was ever reading some portion of God's holy word, appropriate to the
mental condition of the patients she might be nursing. Out of this
basket old Rachel took the pocket Bible, and, with the tears coursing
down her wrinkled features, she placed the sacred book in the clasped
hand of the quiet sleeper, and laid both gently back on the still pure
bosom.
"O, honey," she groaned, "ef ye could on'y open dem hebbenly eyes ob
yourn, an' see dat book dar, wot you used to lub so well, how you
would bress dis poor ole niggah fur puttin' it in dat pooty white hand
ob yourn."
The manner in which Agnes lost her life was as follows:
During the day the three who were ill with the fever were exceeding
troublesome, fairly overtasking the strength of Agnes in attending to
them. Shortly after noon, also, the baby began to exhibit symptoms of
being ill. It steadily grew worse, and became exceedingly fractious.
The only way in which Agnes could pacify it, was to keep walking with
it in her arms constantly. The moment she would attempt to sit down to
rest herself or lay it in its crib, so that she might do something for
the others, it would scream dreadfully till she began to walk it
again.
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