"
He prayed that if any man there had been remiss toward the stranger come
to a far country, God would forgive him and soften his heart. He recalled
the promises to the widow and the fatherless, and asked God to smooth the
way before this widow and her children, and to "incline the hearts of men
to deal justly with her." In closing, he said we were leaving Mr. Shimerda
at "Thy judgment seat, which is also Thy mercy seat."
All the time he was praying, grandmother watched him through the black
fingers of her glove, and when he said "Amen," I thought she looked
satisfied with him. She turned to Otto and whispered, "Can't you start a
hymn, Fuchs? It would seem less heathenish."
Fuchs glanced about to see if there was general approval of her
suggestion, then began, "Jesus, Lover of my Soul," and all the men and
women took it up after him. Whenever I have heard the hymn since, it has
made me remember that white waste and the little group of people; and the
bluish air, full of fine, eddying snow, like long veils flying:--
"While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high."
Years afterward, when the open-grazing days were over, and the red grass
had been ploughed under and under until it had almost disappeared from the
prairie; when all the fields were under fence, and the roads no longer ran
about like wild things, but followed the surveyed section-lines, Mr.
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