His hair, well retreated up his forehead, was of the same close-woven salt-and-pepper mixture.

His eyes were wells of ink when the light fell into them,--sad, kind eyes, that gave his face a look of patient service long and toilsomely, but lovingly bestowed.

It is a look telling of kindness that has endured and triumphed--a look of submission in which suffering has once burned, but has consumed itself.

I have never seen it except in the eyes of certain old Negroes.

The only colorable imitation is to be found in the eyes of my setter pup when he crouches at my feet and beseeches kindness after a punishment.
In bearing, as I have intimated, Clem was impressive.