The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1921, Page 34

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34

racked with convulsive coughing, she would twist
and turn between them until the coming of the
dawn.

It was during one of these black, rainy nights
that Emma breathed her last. Outside the tall pines
and oaks were sighing and moaning as the wind
swept through their branches. Inside the little one-
room log cabin a cheery fire of “light-wood” blazed,
casting its flickering rays over the rough board floor
and along the walls of the squalid hut. “Ma,” Sis,
Bud, and John Henry had arranged themselves be-
fore the hearth with their plates and pans to par-
take of their evening meal. Sis had just taken the
“pone” from the skillet and was pouring the coffee,
when the voice of the sick girl caused them all to
look towards the place where she was lying.

“Ma,” Emma had called, “what for you all let-
tin’ the light go out so soon?” Instantly the mem-
bers of the family exchanged frightened glances,
forgot their-supper, and gathered around the bed of
the daughter and sister. “Ma, you say the light
ain’ goin’ out? Then what for is it gettin’ so dark
in here?” “It ain’ gettin’ dark in here, honey,
there’s a big fire in the chimney,” the anxious
mother answered. “But, Ma, it is dark to me, and
I cain hardly see you all standin’ there. All the
time you seem to be gettin’ farther and farther
away from me. Ma, do you reckon I’m dyin’ or
fixin’ ter die?” the poor girl asked. “Naw, honey,
you ain’ gwine ter die, leastwise not now. Jes’ you
lay there an’ keep quiet, an’ you'll soon be all right,”
the mother said, as she tried to make the bed more
comfortable for her daughter. “But, Ma,” the girl
persisted, in an ever weakening voice, “I believe I is
dyin’. for sho’. I feels so tired and queer, an’ it
keeps gettin’ darker an’ darker. Is Bud, and Sis,
and John Henry there, Ma?” she asked after a
pause. “Yes, honey, we is all here to do anything
for you you wants done.” “Well, listen, Ma,
I wants you all to sing for me.” “Yes, honey, what
you wants us to sing?” After a moment’s thought
Emma answered, “Ma, I wants you all to sing for
me the ‘St. Louis Blues.’ ”

Sis in a low, crooning soprano voice began to
sing the licentious words of that nonsensical song,
the others joining in. As the last quavering notes
died away, a slight tremor passed through the
wasted body of the girl lying on the bed, and her
heart was forever stilled. And so the soul of poor,
unforgiven Emma passed out into outer darkness to
wend its way through the boundless maze of a flam-
~ ing, but lightless eternity because she knew not her

The Lutheran Pioneer. :
i a

Savior. With a song of the underworld ringing in
her ears the soul of this poor girl winged its way
from a godless log cabin, which she had known as
home, to the eternal wilderness where

Dead men lie like broken lutes,

Whose dying slays a song.

And you, dear reader? Why dream of the
misery and heathenism in far-away lands? Tow
about the heathen in the alley behind your house?
How about the heathen in your kitchen? How
about the heathen in the corn- and cotton-fields of
our own South?

If you cannot cross the ocean
And the heathen lands explore,
You can help the heathen nearer,
You can help them at your door.
If you cannot speak like angels,
If you cannot preach like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus,
You can say, “He died for all.”

k. O. tT.

News from the Concord, N.C., Parish.

Dear “Pronger”, READERS: — We wish to take
you on a trip around our parish to-day. This day,
being March 27, is also “The Day of Resurrection.”
Grace Congregation, Concord, N. C., being our base
of operations, etc., we shall start from here. It is
11 o'clock, the hour for morning services to begin. °
Our chapel is decked with many flowers of brilliant
hue and sweetest fragrance. I need not tell you
that this is the work of the kind ladies of the con-
gregation. The crowd pours in. ‘The organist
takes his seat, and soon can be heard the melodious
strains of “Christ the Lord is Risen To-day.” Do
you hear the congregation singing? How like a

~ band of victorious warriors coming home! Sitting

before the altar can be seen one adult and eight
children, the Lord’s Easter harvest. ‘They rise, are
examined and confirmed. Basing his remarks on
Rey. 3, 11, the pastor charged the newly confirmed
to hold fast to that precious:heritage which was
theirs through Jesus Christ till the coming of their

The closing hymn, “I Know That My Redeemer
Lives,” was sung with much earnestness and zeal.

But we must hurry on. Jumping into a waiting
vehicle, we next go to our small, but faithful Im-
manuel Congregation at Shankletown, N.C. There
we find a band of people and four catechumens

waiting for us. — Services begin at once. ‘The pas- |