José — page 279: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

272 JOSE. bridle of whose horse she seized. The procession halted and the overseer carefully dismounted. “Silence, Hattie; collect yourself,” he said, taking hold of her arm while the muscles of his face twitched as if he were himself vainly trying to con- quer his grief. “It is a hard blow to us two old people, but it must be suffered—” “Loose me! looseme! You did not rock him in your lap nor rear him,” she interrupted, passion- ately. “Let me see him! where is he?” “Do not detain the procession, Hattie,” he said, earnestly; “go look to your mistress whom you have forgotten; it is her first province to mourn—” “What would you, McAllister?” she cried, in wild agitation. “The last of the McGregors lies crushed to the ground, never to flourish again. What cares she for the McGregors? Are not you and I all that is left of it?” The overseer looked up sorrowfully. He motioned to the horseman nearest to him, and the procession moved on. “Bewail his death, Hattie, but I pray you, do not dishonor the dead,” he said, leading her slowly away; “the mistress was his choice, and was law- fully joined to him. Go, Hattie, in order that he who died like a true McGregor, with a weapon in his hand, may find a reception that is meet for a McGregor.” | The housekeeper looked at him; large, heavy tear-drops escaped her wrinkled eyelids and the muscles around the old overseer’s mouth again . twitched nervously. “Go, Hattie!” he said, averting his face. For a moment she clasped her face in her hands, then hastened away in advance of the procession. Eomichooks sco m