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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"The Under Dog"

An' don't yer
'member, Marse Henry, de time ye gin me Sammy an' tol' me to take care
on him? you ain't forgot dat day, is yer? He's here, Marster; Sammy's
here. He's settin' outside a-watch-in'. Him an' me togedder, same's we
useter was.'
"He got upon his feet, and looked earnestly into the dead face. Then he
bent down and picked up one corner of the white sheet, and kissed it
reverently. He did not touch the face. When he had tiptoed out of the
room, he laid his hand on my shoulder. The tears were streaming down his
face: 'It was jes' like ye, Sammy, to send fo' me. We knows one anudder,
you an' me--' and he turned toward the front door.
[Illustration: I hardly knew him, he was so changed.]
"'Where are you going, Aleck?' I asked.
"'I dunno, Sammy--some place whar I kin lay down.'
"'You don't leave here to-night, Aleck,' I said. 'Go upstairs to that
room next to mine--you know where it is--and get into that bed.' He held
up his hand and began to say he couldn't, but I insisted.


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