RA FT-B UILDING. 7 8 
The little white kitten, and many other kittens that day, 
white and black, mewed piteously for the meat the ravens 
did not bring. 
" Mammy," said Lex, I'se pow'ful hungry. Doan y' 
t'ink it's 'bout time fer 'em ? " 
The three-legged stool had gone long ago. Mammy, 
her brave heart battling against the numb despair that 
was creeping over her, laid her poor rough hand on the 
boy's head, and sang : — 
" Oh, my way's cloudy — 
My way — 
Oh, send dem angels down." 
" Mammy ! " Lex suddenly broke out, with a sharp 
cry, " was dat 'Lijah ivhite f " 
Poor mammy ! Perhaps if she could have had an 
image of Elijah's swarthy face as it must really have 
looked, she would have been comforted. As it was, she 
was fain to lay her finger on the child's trembling lips, 
and go on singing. 
In the west the sun glowed in all its mockery of red 
light, like a painted furnace in a frame of ice. The 
wind, — ah, that remorseless wind ! — springing up again, 
blew out the last spark of fire, and thrust itself through 
the wide cracks in the little hut. 
Still mammy sat stiffly, forming the words with her 
lips : — 
" Send dem angels down, — 
My way's clo-o-udy — " 
