University of California Berkeley 
 
 JACK FLEMING COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 AFRICAN AMERICANA 
 
MISS 
 
 SS OPHELIA APPEARED, DRAGGING TOPSY BEHIND HER. 
 
 [PAGE 35.] 
 
 
THE 
 PLEASANT HOUR SERIES 
 
 UNCLE OM'S CABIN 
 
 HARRIET BEECHER STOWE 
 
 REWRITTEN FOR YOUNG READERS BY 
 MARY E. BLAIN 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 HUGO VON HOFSTEN 
 
 BREWER, BARSE & CO 
 CHICAGO 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 MlSS OPHELIA APPEARED, DRAGGING TOPSY BEHIND HER 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 SHE CROWED AND CLAPPED HER HANDS WITH DELIGHT . . 8 
 
 THEY ALL TUMBLED OFF THE RAIL TOGETHER, AND SCAMPERED 
 AWAY 16 
 
 "PAPA, DO BUY HIM ! IT'S NO MATTER WHAT YOU PAY," WHIS- 
 PERED EVA SOFTLY 24 
 
 "I'LL STAY WITH MAS*R AS LONG AS HE WANTS ME SO AS I 
 
 CAN BE OF ANY USE" 32 
 
 "O, MAS'R, PLEASE DO BUY MY DAUGHTER" 40 
 
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 UNCLE TOM AND LITTLE HARRY ARE SOLD. 
 
 Very many years ago, instead of having servants to 
 wait upon them and work for them, people used to have 
 slaves. These slaves were paid no wages. Their mas- 
 ters gave them only food and clothes in return for their 
 work. 
 
 When any one wanted servants he went to market to 
 buy them, just as nowadays we buy horses and cows, or 
 even tables and chairs. 
 
 If the poor slaves were bought by kind people they 
 would be quite happy, work willingly for their masters 
 and mistresses, and even love them. But often cruel peo- 
 ple bought slaves and used to beat them and be unkind 
 to them in many ways. 
 
 Uncle Tom was a slave, and a faithful and honest 
 servant. His master, Mr. Shelby, was kind to him. 
 Uncle Tom's wife was called Aunt Chloe. She was 
 Mr. Shelby's head cook. Nobody in all the country 
 round could make such delicious pies and cakes as 
 Aunt Chloe. 
 
 Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe lived together in a pretty 
 little cottage built of wood, quite close to Mr. Shelby's 
 big house. 
 
 The little cottage was covered with climbing roses, 
 and the garden was full of beautiful bright flowers and 
 lovely fruit trees. 
 
 Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe lived happily for many 
 years in their little cottage, or cabin, as it was called. 
 All day Uncle Tom used to work in the field, while 
 Aunt Chloe was busy in the kitchen at Mr. Shelby's 
 
 5 
 
6 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 house. When evening came they both went home to 
 their cottage and their children, and were merry to- 
 gether. 
 
 Uncle Tom was very fond of his children and liked 
 to amuse them. He would toss the baby at arm's length 
 until she crowed and clapped her hands with delight, 
 while Aunt Chloe looked on with beaming face. 
 
 Mr. Shelby was a good man, and kind to his slaves, 
 but he was not very careful of his money. When he 
 had spent all he had he did not know what to do to get 
 more. At last he borrowed money from a man called 
 Haley, hoping to be able to pay it back again some day. 
 
 But that day never came. Haley grew impatient, and 
 said, "If you don't pay what you owe me, I will take 
 your house and lands, and sell them to pay myself all 
 the money I have lent to you." 
 
 So Mr. Shelby sold everything he could spare and 
 gathered money together in every way he could think 
 of, but still there was not enough. 
 
 Then Haley said, "Give me that slave of yours called 
 Tom he is worth a lot of money." 
 
 But Mr. Shelby knew that Haley was not a nice 
 man, and did not want Tom for a servant, but only 
 wanted to sell him again, to make more money. So Mr. 
 Shelby said, "No, I can't do that. I never mean to sell 
 any of my slaves, least of all Tom. He has been with 
 me since he was a little boy." 
 
 "Oh, very well," said Haley, "I shall sell your house 
 and lands, as I said I should." 
 
 Mr. Shelby could not bear to think of that, so he 
 agreed to let Haley have Tom. He made him promise, 
 however, not to sell Tom again except to a kind master. 
 
 "Very well," said Haley, "but Tom isn't enough. I 
 must have another slave." 
 
 Just at this moment a little boy came dancing into 
 the room where Mr. Shelby and Haley were talking. 
 
 He was a pretty, merry little fellow, the son of a slave 
 called Eliza, who was Mrs. Shelby's maid. 
 
 "There now," said Haley, "give me that little chap, 
 
Uncle Tom and Little Harry Sold. J 
 
 as well as Tom, and we will say no more about the 
 money you owe me." 
 
 "I can't," said Mr. Shelby. "My wife is very fond 
 of Eliza, and would never hear of having Harry sold." 
 
 "Oh, very well," said Haley once more, "I must just 
 sell your house." 
 
 So again Mr. Shelby gave in, and Haley went away 
 with the promise that next morning Uncle Tom and 
 little Harry should be given to him, to be his slaves. 
 
 Mr. Shelby was very unhappy because of what he 
 had done. He knew his wife would be very unhappy 
 too, and did not like to tell her. 
 
 He had to do it that night, however, before she went 
 to bed. 
 
 Mrs. Shelby could hardly believe it. "Oh, you do 
 not mean this," she said. "You must not sell our good 
 Tom and dear little Harry. Do anything rather than 
 that. It is a wicked, wicked thing to do." 
 
 "There is nothing else I can do," said Mr. Shelby "I 
 have sold everything I can think of, and at any rate now 
 that Haley has set his heart on having Tom and Harry, 
 he would not take anything or anybody instead." 
 
 Eliza was sitting in the next room. The door was 
 not quite closed, so she could not help hearing what 
 was said. As she listened she grew pale and cold and 
 a terrible look of pain came into her face. 
 
 Eliza's husband was called George, and was a slave 
 too. He did not belong to Mr. Shelby, but to another 
 man, who had a farm quite near. George and Eliza 
 could not live together as a husband and wife generally 
 do. Indeed, they hardly ever saw each other. George's 
 master was a cruel man, and would not let him come to 
 see his wife. He was so cruel, and beat George so dread- 
 fully, that the poor slave made up his mind to run away. 
 He had come that very day to tell Eliza about it. 
 
 When Mr. and Mrs. Shelby stopped talking, Eliza 
 crept to her own room. Little Harry was asleep. 
 
 Taking a piece of paper and a pencil, she wrote 
 quickly. 
 
8 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 'Oh, missis 1 dear missis! don't think me ungrateful 
 don't think hard of me, anyway! I heard all you and 
 master said to-night. I am going to try to save my boy 
 you will not blame me ! God bless and reward you 
 for all your kindness!" 
 
 Eliza was going to run away, so she gathered a few 
 of Harry's clothes into a bundle, put on her hat and 
 jacket, and aroused Harry, who was rather frightened 
 at being waked in the middle of the night, and seeing 
 his mother bending over him, with her hat and jacket on. 
 
 "What is the matter, mother?" he said, beginning to 
 cry. 
 
 "Hush," she said, "Harry mustn't cry or speak aloud, 
 or they will hear us. A wicked man was coming to take 
 little Harry away from his mother, and carry him 'way 
 off in the dark. But mother won't let him. She's going 
 to put on her little boy's cap and coat, and run off with 
 him, so the ugly man can't catch him." 
 
 Harry stopped crying at once, and was good and quiet 
 as a little mouse, while his mother dressed him. When 
 he was ready, she lifted him in her arms, and crept 
 softly out of the house. 
 
 It was a beautiful, clear, starlight night, but very cold, 
 for it was winter-time. Eliza ran quickly to Uncle 
 Tom's cottage, and tapped on the window. 
 
 Aunt Chloe jumped up at once, and opened the door. 
 She was very much astonished to see Eliza standing 
 there with Harry in her arms. Uncle Tom followed her 
 to the door, and was very much astonished too. 
 
 "I'm running away, Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe 
 carrying off my child," said Eliza. "Master sold him." 
 
 "Sold him?" they both echoed, lifting up their hands 
 in dismay. 
 
 "Yes, sold him," said Eliza. "I heard master tell 
 missis that he had sold my Harry, and you. Uncle 
 Tom. The man is coming to take you away to-morrow." 
 
 At first Tom could hardly believe what he heard. 
 Then he sank down, and buried his face in his hands. 
 
 "The good Lord have pity on us!" said Aunt Chloe. 
 
SHE CROWED AND CLAPPED HER HANDS WITH DELIGHT. [PAGE 6.] 
 
The Chase. 9 
 
 "What has Tom done that master should sell him?" 
 
 "He hasn't done anything it isn't for that. Master 
 don't want to sell; but he owes this man money. If he 
 doesn't pay him it will end in his having to sell the 
 house and all the slaves. Master said he was sorry. But 
 missis she talked like an angel. I'm a wicked girl to 
 leave her so, but I can't help it. It must be right; but 
 if it an't right, the good Lord will forgive me, for I 
 can't help doing it." 
 
 "Tom," said Aunt Chloe, "why don't you go too? 
 There's time." 
 
 Tom slowly raised his head and looked sorrowfully 
 at her. 
 
 "No, no," he said. "Let Eliza go. It is right that 
 she should try to save her boy. Mas'r has always trusted 
 me, and I can't leave him like that. It is better for me 
 to go alone than for the whole place to be sold. Mas'r 
 isn't to blame, Chloe. He will take care of you and the 
 poor " 
 
 Tom could say no more. Big man though he was, he 
 burst into tears, at the thought of leaving his wife and 
 dear little children, never to see them any more. 
 
 "Aunt Chloe," said Eliza, in a minute or two, "I 
 must go. I saw my husband to-day. He told me he 
 meant to run away soon, because his master is so cruel 
 to him. Try to send him a message from me. Tell 
 him I have run away to save our boy. Tell him to come 
 after me if he can. Good-bye, God bless you I" 
 
 Then Eliza went out again into the dark night with 
 her little boy in her arms, and Aunt Chloe shut the 
 door softly behind her. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 Next morning, when it was discovered that Eliza had 
 run away with her little boy, there was great excitement 
 and confusion all over the house. 
 
io Uncle T orris Cabin. 
 
 Mrs. Shelby was very glad. "Thank God !" she said. 
 I could not bear to think of Harry being sold to that 
 cruel man." 
 
 Mr. Shelby was angry. "Haley knew I didn't want 
 to sell the child," he said. "He will blame me for this." 
 
 One person only was quite silent, and that was Aunt 
 Chloe. She went on making the breakfast as if she 
 heard and saw nothing of the excitement round her. 
 
 All the little black boys belonging to the house 
 thought it was fine fun. Very soon, about a dozen young 
 imps were roosting, like so many crows, on the railings, 
 waiting for Haley to come. They wanted to see how 
 angry he would be, when he heard the news. 
 
 And he was dreadfully angry. The little nigger boys 
 thought it was grand. They shouted and laughed and 
 made faces at him until he started for them with his big 
 whip when they all tumbled off the rail together and 
 scampered away. 
 
 At last Haley became so angry, that Mr. Shelby 
 offered to give him two men to help him find Eliza. 
 
 But these two men, Sam and Andy, knew quite well 
 that Mrs. Shelby did not want Eliza to be caught, so 
 they tarried as much as possible. 
 
 When at last they did start, Sam led them by a wrong 
 road. So the sun was almost setting before they arrived 
 at the village where Haley hoped to find Eliza. 
 
 When Eliza left Uncle Tom's cabin, she felt very sad 
 and lonely. She knew she was leaving all the friends 
 she had ever had. 
 
 Harry dropped his little weary head upon her shoul- 
 der, and was soon fast asleep. 
 
 Eliza walked on and on, never resting, all through 
 the night. When the sun rose, she was many miles away 
 from her old home. Still she walked on, only stopping, 
 in the middle of the day, to buy a little dinner for her- 
 self and Harry at a farm-house. 
 
 When it was nearly dark, she arrived at a village, on 
 
The Chase. n 
 
 the banks of the Ohio river. If she could only get 
 across that river, Eliza felt she would be safe. 
 
 She went to a little inn on the bank, where a kind- 
 looking woman was busy cooking supper. 
 
 "Is there a boat that takes people across the river 
 now?" she asked. 
 
 "No, indeed," replied the woman. "The boats has 
 stopped running. It isn't safe, there be too many blocks 
 of ice floating about." 
 
 Eliza looked so sad and disappointed when she heard 
 this, that the good woman was sorry for her. Harry too 
 was tired, and began to cry. 
 
 "Here, take him into this room," said the woman, 
 opening the door into a small bedroom. 
 
 Eliza laid him upon the bed, and he soon fell asleep. 
 But for her there was no rest. She stood at the window, 
 watching the river with its great floating blocks of ice, 
 wondering how she could cross it. 
 
 As she stood there she heard a shout. Looking up she 
 saw Sam. She drew back just in time, for Haley and 
 Andy were riding only a yard or two behind him. 
 
 It was a dreadful moment for Eliza. Her room 
 opened by a side door to the river. She seized her child 
 and sprang down the steps towards it. 
 
 Haley caught sight of her as she disappeared down 
 the bank. Throwing himself from his horse, and calling 
 loudly to Sam and Andy, he was after her in a moment. 
 
 In that terrible moment her feet scarcely seemed to 
 touch the ground. The next, she was at the water's edge. 
 
 On they came behind her. With one wild cry and 
 flying leap, she jumped over the water by the shore, on to 
 the raft of ice beyond. It was a desperate leap. Haley, 
 Sam, and Andy cried out, and lifted up their hands in 
 astonishment. 
 
 The great piece of ice pitched and creaked as her 
 weight came upon it. But she stayed there not a mo- 
 ment. With wild cries she leaped to another and still 
 
12 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 another stumbling leaping slipping springing up 
 again 1 
 
 Her shoes were gone, her stockings cut from her feet 
 by the sharp edges of the ice. Blood marked every step. 
 'But she knew nothing, felt nothing, till dimly, as in a 
 dream, she saw the Ohio side, and a man helping her 
 up the bank. 
 
 "You're a right brave gal," said the man. "Go there," 
 pointing to a big white house close by. "They are kind 
 folks ; they'll help you." 
 
 On the other side of the river Haley was standing per- 
 fectly amazed at the scene. When Eliza disappeared 
 over the bank he turned and looked at Sam and Andy, 
 with terrible anger in his eyes. 
 
 "Good evening, mas'r," said Sam. "I berry much 
 'spect missis be anxious 'bout us. Mas'r Haley won't 
 want us no longer." Then off they went as fast as their 
 horses 'could gallop. 
 
 It was late at night before they reached home again, 
 but Mrs. Shelby was waiting for them. So Sam went 
 up and told the wonderful story of how Eliza had 
 crossed the river on the floating ice. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Shelby found it hard to believe that such a thing was 
 possible. 
 
 Mrs. Shelby was very, very glad that Eliza had 
 escaped. She told Aunt Chloe to give Sam and Andy 
 a specially good supper. Then they went to bed, quite 
 pleased with their day's work. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ELIZA FINDS A REFUGE. 
 
 A lady and gentleman were sitting talking happily 
 together in the drawing-room of the white house to 
 which Eliza had gone. Suddenly their old black man- 
 of-all-work put his head in at the door and said, "Will 
 missis come into the kitchen?" 
 
Eliza Finds a Refuge. 13 
 
 The lady went. Presently she called her husband. 
 
 There lay Eliza on two kitchen chairs. Her poor feet 
 were all cut and bleeding, and she had fainted. 
 
 The old man had Harry on his knee, and was busy 
 pulling off his shoes and stockings, to warm the little 
 cold feet. 
 
 "Poor creature," said the lady. 
 
 Suddenly Eliza opened her eyes. A dreadful look of 
 pain came into her face. She sprang up saying, "Oh, 
 my Harry, have they got him?" 
 
 As soon as he heard her voice, Harry jumped from 
 the old man's knee, and running to her side, put up his 
 arms. 
 
 "Oh, he's here ! he's here," she said, kissing him. "Oh, 
 ma'am," she went on, turning wildly to the lady of the 
 house, "do protect us, don't let them get him." 
 
 "Nobody shall hurt you here, poor woman," said the 
 lady. "You are safe; don't be afraid." 
 
 "God bless you," said Eliza sobbing and crying as 
 she told them of her misfortune. 
 
 Eliza wanted to go to Canada, because it belonged 
 to the British. They did not allow any one to be made 
 a slave there. George, too, was going to try to reach 
 Canada. 
 
 "Wife," said the gentleman, when they had gone back 
 again into their own sitting-room, "we must get that poor 
 woman away to-night. She is not safe here. 
 
 So this kind p-entleman got the carriage ready, and 
 drove Eliza and her boy a long, long way, through the 
 dark night, to a cottage far in the country. There he 
 left her with a good man and his wife, who promised to 
 be kind to her, and help her to go to Canada. He gave 
 some money to the good man too, and told him to use 
 it for Eliza. 
 
 Kind people helped her all the way. She passed 
 from friend to friend, till she arrived safely at a village 
 where the people were Quakers. 
 
14 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 The Quakers were gentle, quiet people. They all 
 dressed alike in plain grey clothes, and the women wore 
 big, white muslin caps. Because they thought it was 
 wicked to have slaves, they helped those who ran away 
 from their cruel masters. Often they were punished 
 for doing this, but still they went on helping the poor 
 slaves. For though the laws said it was wrong, they 
 felt quite sure that it was really right to do so. 
 
 The kind Quaker women grew to be very fond of 
 Eliza, and would have been glad if she would have 
 stayed with them. 
 
 But Eliza said, u No, I must go on; I dare not stop. 
 I can't sleep at night: I can't rest. Last night I 
 dreamed I saw that man come into the yard." 
 
 "Poor child," said Rachel, the kind Quaker woman 
 to whom she was speaking, "thee musn't feel so. No 
 slave that has run away has ever been stolen from our 
 village. It is safe here." 
 
 While they were talking, Simeon, Rachel's husband, 
 came to the door and called, "Wife, I want to speak to 
 thee a minute." 
 
 Rachel went out to him. "Eliza's husband is here," 
 he said. 
 
 "Art thee sure?" asked Rachel, her face bright with 
 joy. 
 
 "Yes, quite certain; he will be here soon. Will thee 
 tell her?" 
 
 Rachel went back into the kitchen, where Eliza was 
 sewing, and, opening the door of a small bedroom, said 
 gently, "Come in here with me, my daughter; I have 
 news to tell thee." 
 
 Eliza rose trembling, she was so afraid it was bad 
 news. 
 
 "No, no! never fear thee. It's good news, Eliza," 
 said Simeon. 
 
 Rachel shut the door, and drew Eliza towards her. 
 "The Lord has been very good to thee," she said gently. 
 
Eliza Finds a Refuge. 15 
 
 "Thy husband hath escaped and will be here to-night." 
 
 "To-night!" repeated Eliza, "to-night!" 
 
 Then it seemed as if the room and everything in it 
 swam round her, and she fell into Rachel's arms. 
 
 Very gently Rachel laid her down on the bed. Eliza 
 slept as she had not slept since the dreadful night when 
 she had taken her boy and run away through the cold, 
 dark night. 
 
 She dreamed she heard her husband's footstep. She 
 felt him coming nearer. His arms were round her, his 
 tears falling upon her face, and she awoke. 
 
 It was no dream. The sun had set, the candles were 
 lit. Harry was sleeping by her side, and George, her 
 husband, was holding her in his arms. 
 
 The two had much to say to each other. George told 
 how he had escaped from his cruel master, and how he 
 had followed Eliza all the way and at last found her. 
 Then there were plans to make for going on towards 
 Canada. The pursuers are hard after thee, we must 
 not delay," said Simeon. 
 
 So George and Eliza decided to start as soon as it 
 was dark. A little while after supper they drove off in- 
 a covered wagon. 
 
 On and on, all through the dark night they drove 
 They reached the wharf the next day and went aboard 
 the boat for Canada. 
 
 After a ride of a day and a night, they were landed on 
 the shore, and stood still till the boat had started again. 
 At last they were free. 
 
 Then with tears of joy, the husband and wife, with 
 their wondering little boy in their arms, knelt down 
 and lifted up their hearts to God. 
 
1 6 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 UNCLE TOM SAYS GOOD-BYE. 
 
 The day after the hunt for Eliza was a very sad one 
 in Uncle Tom's cabin. It was the day on which Haley 
 was going to take Uncle Tom away. 
 
 Aunt Chloe had been up very early. She had washed 
 and ironed all Tom's clothes, and packed his trunk 
 neatly. Now she was cooking the breakfast, the last 
 breakfast she would ever cook for her dear husband. 
 Her eyes were quite red and swollen with crying, and 
 the tears kept running down her cheeks all the time. 
 
 "It's the last time," said Tom sadly. 
 
 Aunt Chloe could not answer. She sat down, buried 
 her face in her hands, and sobbed aloud. 
 
 "S'pose we must be resigned. But, O Lord, how can 
 I? If I knew anything where you was goin', or how 
 they'd treat you! Missis says she'll try and buy you 
 back again in a year or two. But, Lor', nobody never 
 comes back that goes down there." 
 
 "There'll be the same God there, Chloe, that there is 
 here." 
 
 "Well," said Aunt Chloe, "s'pose dere will. But the 
 Lord lets drefful things happen sometimes. I don't 
 seem to get no comfort dat way." 
 
 "Let's think on our mercies," said Tom, in a shaking 
 voice. 
 
 "Mercies!" said Aunt Chloe, "don't see any mercies 
 in 't. It isn't right! it isn't right it should be so! Mas'r 
 never ought to have left it so that ye could be took for 
 his debts. Mebbe he can't help himself now, but I feel 
 it's wrong. Nothing can beat that out of me. Such a 
 faithful crittur as yeVe been, reckonin' on him more 
 than your own wife and chiPen." 
 
 "Chloe! now, if ye love me, you won't talk so, when 
 
'? 
 
 THEY ALL TUMBLED OFF THE RAIL TOGETHER, AXD SCAMPERED 
 AWAY. ^[PAGE 10.] 
 
Uncle Tom Says Good-bye. 17 
 
 it is perhaps jest the last time we'll ever have together," 
 said Tom. 
 
 "Wall, anyway, there's wrong about it somewhere," 
 said Aunt Chloe, "I can't jest make out where 'tis. But 
 there is wrong somewhere, I'm sure of that." 
 
 Neither Tom nor Chloe could eat any breakfast ; their 
 hearts were too full of sorrow. But the little children, 
 who hardly understood what was happening, enjoyed 
 theirs. It was not often that they had such a fine one as 
 Chloe had cooked for Tom's last morning at home. 
 
 Breakfast was just finished, when Mrs. Shelby came. 
 Chloe was not very pleased to see her. She was angry, 
 and blamed her for letting Tom be sold. 
 
 But Mrs. Shelby did not seem to see Aunt Chloe's 
 angry looks. "Tom," she said, turning to him, "I come 
 to " she could say no more, she was crying so bitterly. 
 
 Then all Aunt Chloe's anger faded away. 
 
 "L<?r', now, missis, don't don't," she said. She too 
 burst out crying again, and for a few minutes they all 
 sobbed together. 
 
 "Tom," said Mrs. Shelby at last, "I can't do anything 
 for you now. But I promise you, most solemnly, to save 
 as much money as I can. As soon as I have enough, I 
 will buy you back again." 
 
 Just then Haley arrived. Tom said a last sad good- 
 bye to his wife and children, and got into the cart with 
 him. 
 
 As soon as Tom was seated in the cart, Haley took a 
 heavy chain, and fastened it round his ankles. Poor 
 Tom had done nothing wrong, yet he was treated worse 
 than a thief, just because he was a slave. 
 
 "Please give my love to Mas'r George," said Tom, 
 looking round sadly. "Tell him how sorry I am he is 
 not at home to say good-bye." 
 
 Master George was Mr. and Mrs. Shelby's son. He 
 was very fond of Tom, and was teaching him to write. 
 He often used to come and have tea in Uncle Tom's little 
 cottage. Aunt Chloe used to make her very nicest cakes 
 
1 8 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 when Mas'r George came to tea. But he was not at 
 home now, and did not know that Tom had been sold. 
 
 Haley whipped up the horse, and, with a last sad look 
 at the old place, Tom was whirled away. 
 
 They had rattled along the dusty road for about a 
 mile, when Haley pulled up at a blacksmith's shop. 
 He got out to have something done to a pair of hand- 
 cuffs, leaving Tom in the cart. 
 
 Tom was sitting there, very mournfully, when sud- 
 denly he heard the quick, short click of a horse's hoofs 
 behind him. Almost before he knew what was happen- 
 ing, George Shelby sprang into the cart. He threw his 
 arms round Tom's neck, sobbing and scolding. 
 
 "Oh, Mas'r George, this does me good," said Tom. 
 "I couldn't bear to go off without seein' ye. It does me 
 real good, ye can't tell." 
 
 Here Tom made a movement with his feet, and 
 George's eyes fell on the chains. 
 
 "What a shame," he cried. "I'll knock that old fel- 
 low down, I will." 
 
 "No, you won't, Mas'r George ; and you must not talk 
 so loud. It won't help me any, to anger him." 
 
 "Well, I won't then, for your sake. But it's a shame." 
 They never sent for me, nor sent me word. If it hadn't 
 been for Tom Lincoln, I shouldn't have heard of it." 
 
 "Look here, Uncle Tom," said he, turning his back to 
 the shop, and speaking in a mysterious tone, "I've 
 brought you my dollar." 
 
 "Oh, I couldn't think of takin' it, Mas'r George, no- 
 ways in the world," said Tom. 
 
 "But you shall take it," said George. "I told Aunt 
 Chloe I'd do it. She advised me to make a hole in it, 
 and put a string through. You can hang it around your 
 neck, and keep it out of sight, else this mean scamp will 
 take it away. I tell you, Tom, I want to blow him up. 
 It would do me good." 
 
 "No, don't Mas'r George, for it won't do me any 
 good." 
 
Uncle Tom Says Good-bye. 19 
 
 "Well, I won't for your sake," said George, busily 
 tying his dollar round Tom's neck. "There, now button 
 your coat tight over it, and keep it safe. Remember 
 every time you see it, that I'm coming after you some 
 day, to bring you back. Aunt Chloe and I have been 
 talking about it. I told her not to fear. I'll see to it. 
 I'll tease father's life out, if he doesn't see to it." 
 
 "Oh' Mas'r George, ye mustn't talk so 'bout your 
 father." 
 
 "Dear me, Uncle Tom, I don't mean anything bad." 
 
 "And now, Mas'r George," said Tom, "ye must be a 
 good boy. 'Member how many hearts is set on ye. 
 Always keep close to your mother. Don't be getting 
 into any o' them foolish ways boys has of getting too big 
 to mind their mothers. Tell ye what, Mas'r George, 
 the- Lord gives a good many things twice over, but he 
 don't give ye a mother but once. You'll never see such 
 another woman, Mas'r George not if ye live to be a 
 hundred years old. So, now, you hold on to her, and 
 grow up, and be a comfort to her, there's my own good 
 boy you will now won't ye?" 
 
 Haley now came to the shop door with the handcuffs 
 in his hand. 
 
 "Good-bye, Uncle Tom," said George, "don't get 
 downhearted." 
 
 "Good-bye, Mas'r George," said Tom. "God Al- 
 mighty bless you." 
 
 Haley came to the cart, threw the handcuffs in, and 
 jumping up on to the seat, drove off. 
 
 All day long, they drove over the rough country 
 roads. Late in the evening they arrived at a town 
 called Washington. Haley went to a comfortable inn 
 for the night, but poor Tom was sent to prison with 
 handcuffs on his wrists, and heavy chains on his ankles. 
 This was not because he had done anything wicked, but 
 only that he happened to be a black man and a slave. 
 
20 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 UNCLE TOM MEETS EVA. 
 
 Haley stayed in Washington several days. He went 
 to market each day and bought more slaves. He put 
 heavy chains on their hands and feet, and sent them to 
 prison with Tom. 
 
 When he had bought all the slaves he wanted, and 
 was ready to go, he drove them before him, like a herd 
 of cattle, on to a boat which was going south. 
 
 It was a beautiful boat. The deck was gay with 
 lovely ladies and fine gentlemen walking about enjoy- 
 ing the bright spring sunshine. 
 
 Down on the lower deck, in the dark, among the lug- 
 gage, were crowded Tom and the other poor slaves. 
 
 Among the passengers was a pretty little girl, about 
 six years old. She had beautiful golden hair, and big 
 blue eyes. She ran about, dancing and laughing like a 
 little fairy. She was always dressed in white, and Tom 
 thought she looked like a little angel. 
 
 Often she would come, and walk sadly round the 
 place where the poor slaves sat in their chains, look 
 pityingly at them, and then go slowly away. Once or 
 twice she came with her pinafore full of sweets, nuts 
 and oranges, and gave them all some. 
 
 Tom watched the little lady, and tried to make 
 friends with her. His pockets were full of all kinds of 
 things, with which he used to amuse his old master's 
 children. 
 
 He could make whistles of every sort and size, cut 
 baskets out of cherry-stones, faces out of nut-shells, 
 jumping figures out of bits of wood. He brought these 
 out one by one, and though the little girl was shy at first, 
 they soon grew to be great friends. 
 
 "What is missy's name?" said Tom one day. 
 
 "Evangeline St. Clare," said the little girl; "though 
 
Uncle Tom Meets Eva. 21 
 
 papa and everybody else call me Eva. Now, what's 
 your name?" 
 
 "My name's Tom. The little chil'en at my old home 
 used to call me Uncle Tom." 
 
 "Then I mean to call you Uncle Tom, because, you 
 see, I like you," said Eva. "So Uncle Tom, where are 
 you going?" 
 
 "I don't know, Miss Eva." 
 
 "Don't know?" said Eva. 
 
 "No. I'm going to be sold to somebody. I don't 
 know who." 
 
 "My papa can buy you," said Eva quickly. "If he 
 buys you, you will have good times. I mean to ask him 
 to, this very day." 
 
 "Thank you, my little lady," said Tom. 
 
 Just at this moment, the boat stopped at a small land- 
 ing-place to take in some wood. Eva heard her father's 
 voice, and ran away to speak to him. 
 
 Eva and her father were standing by the railings as 
 the boat once more began to move. It had hardly left 
 the landing-stage when, somehow or other, Eva lost her 
 balance, and fell over the side of the boat into the 
 water. 
 
 Tom was standing just under her, on the lower deck, 
 as she fell. In a moment he sprang after her. The 
 next, he had caught her in his arms, and was swimming 
 with her to the boat-side, where eager hands were held 
 out to take her. 
 
 The whole boat was in confusion. Every one ran to 
 help Eva, while the poor slave went back to his place, 
 unnoticed and uncared for. 
 
 But Mr. St. Clare did not forget, and when Eva put 
 her arms around his neck and whispered, "Papa, do buy 
 him, it's no matter what you pay," he gave Haley his 
 price, and Tom had a new master. 
 
 "Come, Eva," said Mr. St. Clare, and taking her 
 hand, went across the boat to Tom. 
 
22 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 "Look up, Tom," she said to him, "and see how you 
 like your new master." 
 
 Mr. St. Clare had such a gay, young, handsome face, 
 that Tom could not help feeling glad. Grateful tears 
 rushed to his eyes as he said, "God bless you, mas'r." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 UNCLE TOM'S LETTER. 
 
 Uncle Tom felt that he was indeed very fortunate to 
 have found such a kind master and so good a home. 
 He had nice clothes, plenty of food, and a comfortable 
 room to sleep in. He had no hard, disagreeable work 
 to do. His chief duties were to drive Mrs. St. Clare's 
 carriage when she wished to go out, and to attend on 
 Eva when she wanted him. He soon grew to love his 
 little mistress very much. 
 
 Mr. St. Clare was not long in finding out how clever 
 Tom was, and soon trusted him as thoroughly as his 
 former master, Mr. Shelby had done. 
 
 But in spite of all his good fortune, Tom longed to 
 go home to see his dear ones again. He had plenty of 
 spare time and when he had nothing to do he would 
 try to find comfort in reading his Bible. 
 
 On Sundays little Eva used to come into his room. 
 They read the Bible and sang hymns together, and 
 talked of his home. That comforted him too. 
 
 But as time went on, Uncle Tom longed more and 
 more for his home. At last one day he had a grand 
 idea. He would write a letter. 
 
 Before Uncle Tom was sold, George Shelby had 
 been teaching him to write, so he thought he could man- 
 age a letter. 
 
 It was very difficult. Poor Uncle Tom found that 
 he had quite forgotten how to make some of the letters. 
 Of those he did remember, he was not quite sure which 
 he ought to use. 
 
Uncle Tom's Letter. 23 
 
 While he was working away, breathing very hard 
 over it, Eva came behind him, and peeped over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Tom! what funny things you are mak- 
 ing!" 
 
 "I'm trying to write to my old woman and my little 
 chil'cn, Miss Eva," said Tom, drawing the back of his 
 hand over his eyes to wipe away the tears. "But some 
 how I'm feared I shan't be able to do it." 
 
 "I wish I could help you Tom. I've learnt to write 
 a little. Last year I could make all the letters but I'm 
 afraid I've forgotten." 
 
 Eva put her little golden head close to Uncle Tom's 
 black one, and they began a serious and anxious talk 
 over the letter. Finally it was begun and they thought 
 it looked quite like a proper letter. 
 
 "Yes, Uncle Tom, it begins to look beautiful," said 
 Eva, gazing on it with delight. "How pleased your 
 wife will be, and the poor little children! Oh, it is a 
 shame that you ever had to go away from them! I 
 mean to ask papa to let you go back, some day. 
 
 "Misses said that she would send down money for me t 
 as soon as they could get it together," said Tom. 
 "Young Mas'r George, he said he'd come for me. He 
 gave me this dollar as a sign," and Tom drew the prec- 
 ious dollar from under his coat. 
 
 "Oh, he is sure to come, then," said Eva, "I am so 
 glad." 
 
 "I wanted to send a letter, you see, to let 'em know 
 where I was, and tell poor Chloe that I was well off, 
 'cause she felt so dreadful, poor soul." 
 
 "I say, Tom," said IVtr. St. Clare, coming in at the 
 door at this minute. "What's this?" 
 
 Tom and Eva both started. 
 
 "Oh, it's Tom's letter. I'm helping him to write it," 
 said Eva. "Isn't it nice?" 
 
 "I wouldn't discourage either of you t " said her 
 
24 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 father; "but I rather think, Tom, you had better let me 
 write your letter for you." 
 
 "It is very important that you should write," said 
 Eva, "because his mistress is going to send money to buy 
 him back again, you know, papa." 
 
 So that evening the letter was written, and Uncle 
 Tom carried it joyfully to the post-office. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AUNT CHLOE GOES TO LOUISVILLE. 
 
 Late on a summer afternoon, a few days after Tom's 
 letter was posted, Mr. and Mrs. Shelby sat together in 
 the hall of their house. It was very hot, and all the 
 doors and windows were wide open. 
 
 "Do you know," said Mrs. Shelby, "that Chloe has 
 had a letter from Tom?" 
 
 "He has been bought by a very fine family, I should 
 think, "he is kindly treated, and has light work." 
 
 "Ah! well, I'm glad of it very glad," said Mr. Shel- 
 by. "Tom, I suppose, is quite pleased. He won't want 
 to come back here again." 
 
 "Oh, but he does. He is very anxious to know when 
 the money to buy him is to be raised," said Mrs. Shelby. 
 
 "I'm sorry. I ought not to have promised to buy 
 Tom back again. I can not raise the money so you had 
 better let Tom know it is impossible." 
 
 "Oh, I can't do that. If I cannot get money any 
 other -way, I shall take music pupils. I could earn 
 enough myself that wav," replied Mrs. Shelby. 
 
 "Don't speak of sucfi a thing. I should never allow 
 it," replied Mr. Shelby quite crossly. 
 
 Just then Aunt Chloe came and asked if "Misses 
 would come and look at dis lot of poetry." 
 
 Aunt Chloe always would call poultry poetry, in 
 spite of anything one could say to her. 
 
'PAPA, DO BUY HIM ! IT'S NO MATTER WHAT YOU PAY," WHISPERED 
 EVA SOFTLY. [PAGE 21.] 
 
Aunt Chloe Goes to Louisville. 25 
 
 "I can't see it," she would say. "One word is just as 
 good as another. Poetry is something nice anyhow." 
 So poetry Chloe called it. 
 
 Mrs. Shelby went to look at the poultry. She soon 
 saw, however, that it was only an excuse. Aunt Chloe 
 didn't really want her to look at it she wanted to talk 
 about something. For a minute or two she hesitated, 
 then she said with a shy laugh, "Laws me, missis, why 
 should mas'r and missis be troubling about money? 
 Why don't they use what is in their hands?" 
 
 "I don't understand," said Mrs. Shelby. 
 
 "Why, laws me, missis," said Ohloe, "some folks 
 hires out their niggers to other people, and so makes 
 money out of them. 
 
 "Well, Chloe, who do you think we could hire out?" 
 
 "I ain't thinking nothing. Only Sam, he told me der 
 was a perfectioner in Louisville who said he wanted 
 some one who could make nice cakes and pastry. He 
 said he would give four dollar a week to one, he did." 
 
 "Well, Chloe?" 
 
 "Well, I's a thinkin, missis, Sally has been under my 
 care now for some time. She can cook nearly as well 
 as me. If missis would only let me go, I could earn 
 some money, and help to buy my old man back again. 
 I ain't afraid to put my cake or pies neither Alongside 
 no perfectioner's." 
 
 "Confectioner's, Chloe." 
 
 "Dear me, missis, words is so curis. Can't never get 
 'em right." 
 
 "But, Chloe, do you want to leave your children?" 
 
 "De boys is big enough now, and Sally will look after 
 baby." 
 
 "Louisville is a long way off." 
 
 "Who's afeard? It's somewhere near my old man, 
 perhaps," said Chloe, looking at Mrs. Shelby in a ques- 
 tioning way. 
 
a6 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 "No, Chloe, it's many hundred miles off," said Mrs. 
 Shelby sadly. 
 
 Chloe's face fell. 
 
 "Never mind; your going there will bring you 
 nearer," said Mrs. Shelby. "Yes, you may go. Every 
 penny of your wages shall be laid aside to buy Tom 
 back with." 
 
 Chloe's face really shone. 
 
 "Oh, missis is too good. I was thinkin' of dat very 
 thing. I shan't need no clothes, nor shoes, nor nothin.' 
 I could save every penny. How many weeks is there 
 in a year, missis?" 
 
 "Fifty-two," said Mrs. Shelby. 
 
 "And four dollars for each of 'em. Why, how much 
 would dat be?" 
 
 "Two hundred and eight dollars." 
 
 "Why-el" said Chloe, quite surprised and delighted 
 at the big sum. "How long would it take me to earn 
 enough, missis?" 
 
 "Four or five years, Chloe. But then you needn't do 
 it all. I shall add some to it." 
 
 "I wouldn't hear of missis giving lessons. Mas'r's 
 quite right in dat. I hope none of our family will ever 
 be brought to dat while Fs got hands," said Chloe 
 proudly. 
 
 "Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Shelby smiling. Now 
 she knew that Chloe had heard what she had said to 
 Mr. Shelby. 
 
 So it was settled that Aunt Chloe should start next 
 day for Louisville, and that all the money she earned 
 was to be laid aside for Tom. 
 
 George gladly wrote a long letter to Uncle Tom. 
 He told him everything, that was happening at home, 
 and how Aunt Chloe was going to Louisville, to help 
 earn money to buy him back again. 
 
 The letter cheered Tom very much when he received 
 it, and a great hope grew in his heart. 
 
Aunt Dinah. 27 
 
 Chloe too was happier than she had been since Uncle 
 Tom had been taken away from her, because she felt 
 that she was working for him, and every penny she 
 earned brought them nearer to each other. She still be- 
 longed to Mr. and Mrs. Shelby. They had not sold- 
 her, but only lent her to the confectioner, who paid 
 wages to her for the work she did. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AUNT DINAH. 
 
 Mr. St. Clare's wife thought she was too ill to super- 
 intend their home and left everything for the slaves to 
 do, which was not satisfactory. 
 
 Things went from bad to worse, until finally Mr. St. 
 Clare went to his cousin, Miss Ophelia, and begged her 
 to come and keep house for him and look after little 
 Eva. It was on the journey back with her that the ac- 
 cident to Eva happened, which resulted in the purchase 
 of Uncle Tom. 
 
 Miss Ophelia St. Clare was a very prim and precise 
 person. In her home people did not have slaves. She 
 was very sorry for them and would have liked to free 
 them all, yet she did not love them nor could not bear 
 to touch them or have them near her, just because they 
 were black. 
 
 Miss Ophelia found it no easy matter to bring order 
 into the St. Clare household. The slaves had been left 
 to themselves so long, they had grown untidy, and were 
 not pleased with Miss Feely, as they called her, for 
 trying to make them be tidy. She got up at four o'clock 
 in the morning, much to the surprise of the housemaids, 
 and all day long was busy dusting and tidying, till Mrs. 
 St. Clare said it made her tired to see cousin Ophelia 
 so busy. 
 
28 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 Things soon began to be more orderly, except the 
 kitchen; that seemed hopeless. 
 
 Aunt Dinah was a good cook, but was a dreadfully 
 untidy old woman. 
 
 "What is this drawer for?" asked Miss Ophelia, the 
 first morning she went into the kitchen. 
 
 "It's handy for most anything, missis," said Aunt 
 Dinah. 
 
 So it seemed. Miss Ophelia tumbled the drawer out. 
 There she found a nutmeg-grater and two or three nut- 
 megs, a hymn-book, two handkerchiefs, some wool and 
 knitting, a paper of tobacco and a pipe, a few biscuits, 
 one or two china saucers with some pomade in them, 
 one or two old shoes, a piece of flannel wrapping up 
 some small white onions, several table-napkins, some 
 coarse towels, some string and darning needles, and 
 several broken papers of sweet herbs, which were spil- 
 ling all over the drawer. 
 
 "Where do you keep your nutmegs, Dinah?" asked 
 Miss Ophelia. 
 
 "Most anywhere, missis. There's some in that cracked 
 teacup up there, and there's some over in that cup- 
 board." 
 
 "Here are some in the grater," said Miss Ophelia, 
 holding them up. 
 
 "Laws, yes. I put 'em there this mornin'. I likes to 
 keep my things handy." 
 
 "What is this?" said Miss Ophelia, holding up a 
 saucer with pomade. 
 
 "It's my hair-grease. I put it there to have it handy." 
 
 "Do you use your mistress's best saucers for that?" 
 
 "Law! It was cause I was driv and in such a hurry. 
 I was going to change it this very day." 
 
 "Here are two table-napkins." 
 
 "Them table-napkins I put there to get 'em washed 
 out some day." 
 
 "Don't you have some place here, on purpose for 
 things to be washed?" 
 
Aunt Dinah. 29 
 
 "Well, Mas'r St. Clare got dat chest, he said, for 
 dat. But I likes to mix up biscuit, and have my things 
 on it some days. Then it an't handy a-liftin' up the lid." 
 
 "Why don't you mix your biscuits on the pastry 
 table?" 
 
 "Law, missis, it gets so full of dishes, and one thing 
 and another, der an't no room." 
 
 "But you should wash your dishes, and clear them 
 away." 
 
 "Wash my dishes!" said Dinah, growing very angry. 
 "What does ladies know 'bout work, I want to know? 
 When would mas'r ever get his dinner if I was to spend 
 all my time a-washin' and a-puttin' away dishes?" 
 
 "Well, here are these onions," said Miss Ophelia 
 patiently. 
 
 "Laws, yes!" said Dinah, "that is where I put 'em, 
 now. I couldn't 'member. Them's particular onions 
 I was a-savin' for dis very stew. I'd forgot dey was 
 in that old flannel." 
 
 Miss Ophelia next lifted up the papers of sweet 
 herbs. 
 
 "I wish missis wouldn't touch dem things. I likes 
 to keep my things handy," said Dinah. 
 
 "But you don't want holes in the papers." 
 
 "Them's handy for sifting them out." 
 
 "But you see, it spills all over the drawer." 
 
 "Laws, yes ! If missis will go a-tumblin' things all up 
 so, it will," said Dinah, coming uneasily to the drawers. 
 
 "I'm going through the kitchen, and going to put 
 everything in order once, Dinah. Then I expect you 
 to keep it so." 
 
 "Oh, now, Miss Feely, dat an't no way for ladies to 
 do. I never did see ladies doing no such thing. I don't 
 see no kind of need of it." And Dinah stalked about 
 indignantly, while Miss Ophelia tidied up. "I has 
 things as straight as anybody when my clearin'-up time 
 comes," she grumbled. "But I don't want ladies round. 
 
3 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 a-hinderin' and gettin' my things all where I can't find 
 
 -em." 
 
 Miss Ophelia soon saw that Dinah was indeed hope- 
 less. One day in despair she spoke to Mr. St Clare 
 about it. 
 
 "Oh, you must let Dinah go her own way," said he. 
 "She is a splendid cook, but if we saw how she did it, 
 I expect we should never eat any more. You can't make 
 her any better, so just leave her alone. She is too old 
 to mend her ways." 
 
 So Aunt Dinah was left alone to rule the kitchen as 
 she liked. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TOPSY. 
 
 One morning, while Miss Ophelia was busy, as usual, 
 she heard Mr. St. Clare calling from the foot of the 
 stairs. 
 
 "Come down here, cousin. I have something to 
 show you." 
 
 "What is it?" said Miss Ophelia, coming down with 
 her sewing in her hand. 
 
 "I have bought something for you. See here," he 
 said, pulling forward a little negro girl of about eight 
 or nine years old. 
 
 She was quite black. Her round, shining eyes glit- 
 tered like glass beads. Her woolly hair was plaited into 
 little tails which stuck out in all directions. Her clothes 
 were dirty and ragged. Miss Ophelia thought she had 
 never seen such a dreadful little girl in all her life. 
 
 "Now, cousin, what is this for? Your house is full 
 of these little plagues as it is. I don't want her, I'm 
 sure." 
 
 "Well, the fact is, cousin," said Mr. St. Clare, draw- 
 ing her aside, "she belonged to some people who were 
 dreadfully cruel and beat her. I couldn't bear to hear 
 
Topsy. 31 
 
 her screaming every day, so I bought her. I will give 
 her to you. Do try and make something of her." 
 
 "Well, I'll do what I can," said Miss Ophelia. "She 
 is fearfully dirty, and half naked." 
 
 Getting Topsy clean was a very long business. But 
 at last it was done. 
 
 Then, sitting down before her, Miss Ophelia began 
 to question her. 
 
 "How old are you, Topsy? 
 
 "Dunno, missis," said she, grinning like an ugly little 
 black doll. 
 
 "Don't know how old you are ! Did nobody ever tell 
 you? Who was your mother?" 
 
 "Never had none," said Topsy, with another grin. 
 
 "Never had any mother! What do you mean? Where 
 were you born?" 
 
 "Never was born," said Topsy very decidedly. 
 "Never had no father, nor mother, nor nothin'!" 
 
 "Have you ever heard anything about God, Topsy?" 
 asked Miss Ophelia next. "Do you know who made 
 you?" 
 
 "Nobody as I knows on," replied Topsy, with a 
 laugh. "Spect I grow'd. Don't think nobody ever 
 made me." 
 
 "What can you do? What did you do for your mas- 
 ter and mistress?" 
 
 "Fetch water, and wash dishes, and clean knives, 
 and wait on folks." 
 
 "Well, now, Topsy, I'm going to show you just how 
 my bed is to be made. I am very particular about my 
 bed. You must learn exactly how to do it." 
 
 "Yes, missis," said Topsy. But while Miss Ophelia 
 was bending over the bed she had quickly seized a pair 
 of gloves and a ribbon, which were lying on the dress- 
 ing-table, and slipped them up her sleeves. When Miss 
 Ophelia looked up again, the naughty little girl was 
 standing with meekly-folded hands as before. 
 
 "Now, Topsy, let me see you do this," said Miss 
 
3 2 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 Ophelia, pulling the clothes off again and seating her- 
 self. 
 
 Topsy, looking very earnest, did it all just as she had 
 been shown. She did it so quickly and well that Miss 
 Ophelia was very pleased. But, alas ! as she was finish- 
 ing, an end of ribbon came dangling out of her sleeve. 
 
 "What is this?" said Miss Ophelia, seizing it. "You 
 naughty, wicked child you have been stealing this." 
 
 "Why, that's Miss Feely's ribbon, an't it? How 
 could it 'a got into my sleeve?" 
 
 "Topsy, you naughty girl, don't tell me a lie. You 
 stole that ribbon." 
 
 "Missis, I declare I didn't. Never seed it till dis 
 blessed minnit." 
 
 "Topsy," said Miss Ophelia, "don't you know it is 
 wicked to tell lies?" 
 
 "I never tells no lies, Miss Feely," said Topsy. "It's 
 jist the truth I've been tellin' now. It an't nothin' else." 
 
 "Topsy, I shall have to whip you, if you tell lies so." 
 
 "Laws, missis, if you whip 's all day, couldn't say no 
 other way," said Topsy, beginning to cry. "I never seed 
 dat ribbon. It must 'a caught in my sleeve. Miss 
 Feely must 'a left it on the bed, and it got caught in the 
 clothes, and so got in my sleeve." 
 
 Miss Ophelia was so angry at such a barefaced lie 
 that she caught Topsy and shook her. "Don't tell me 
 that again," she said. 
 
 The shake brought the gloves on to the floor from 
 the other sleeve. 
 
 "There," said Miss Ophelia, "will you tell me now 
 you didn't steal the ribbon?" 
 
 Topsy now confessed to stealing the gloves. But she 
 still said she had not taken the ribbon. 
 
 "Now, Topsy," said Miss Ophelia kindly, "if you 
 will confess all about it I won't whip you this time." 
 
 So Topsy confessed to having stolen both the ribbon 
 and the gloves. She said she was very, very sorry, and 
 would never do it again. 
 
'I'LL STAY WITH MAS'R AS LONG AS HE WANTS ME so AS i CAN BE 
 OF ANY USE." [PAGE 38.] 
 
Topsy. 33 
 
 "Well, now, tell me," said Miss Ophelia, "have you 
 taken anything else since you have been in the house? 
 If you confess I won't whip you." 
 
 "Laws, missis, I took Miss Eva's red thing she wears 
 on her neck." 
 
 "You did, you naughtv child! Well, what else?" 
 
 "I took Rosa's ear-rings them red ones." 
 
 "Go and bring them to me this minute both of 
 them." 
 
 "Laws, missis, I can't they 's burnt up." 
 
 "Burnt up? What a story! Go and get them, or I 
 shall whip you." 
 
 Topsy began to cry and groan, and declare that she 
 could not. "They's burnt up, they is." 
 
 "What did you burn them up for?" asked Miss 
 Ophelia. 
 
 "Cause I 's wicked, I is. I 's mighty wicked, anyhow. 
 I can't help it." 
 
 Just at this minute Eva came into the room wearing 
 her coral necklace. 
 
 "Why, Eva, where did you get your necklace?" said 
 Miss Ophelia. 
 
 "Get it? Why, I have had it on all day," answered 
 Eva, rather surprised. "And, what is funny, aunty, I 
 had it on all night too. I forgot to take it off when I 
 went to bed." 
 
 Miss Ophelia looked perfectly astonished. She was 
 more astonished still when, next minute, Rosa, who was 
 one of the housemaids, came in with a basket of clean 
 clothes, wearing her coral ear-rings as usual. 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know what to do with such a child," 
 she said, in despair. "What in the world made you tell 
 me you took those things, Topsy?" 
 
 "Why, missis said I must 'fess. I couldn't think of 
 nothing else to 'fess," said Topsy, wiping her eyes. 
 
 "But, of course, I didn't want you to confess things 
 you didn't do," said Miss Ophelia. "That is telling a 
 lie just as much as the other." 
 
34 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 "Laws, now, is it?" said Topsy, looking surprised and 
 innocent. 
 
 "Poor Topsy," said Eva, "why need you steal? You 
 are going to be taken good care of now. I am sure I 
 would rather give you anything of mine than have you 
 steal it." 
 
 Topsy had never been spoken to so kindly and gently 
 in all her life. For a minute she looked as if she were 
 going to cry. The next she was grinning as usual in her 
 ugly way. 
 
 "What is to be done with Topsy?" said Miss Ophelia. 
 "I never saw such a child as this." 
 
 But no one could answer her question. So Miss 
 Ophelia had to go on, as best she could, trying to make 
 Topsy a good girl. 
 
 She taught her to read and to sew. Topsy liked read- 
 ing, and learned her letters like magic. But she could 
 not bear sewing. So she broke her needles or threw 
 them away. She tangled, broke, and dirtied her cotton 
 and hid her reels. Miss Ophelia felt sure all these 
 things could not be accidents. Yet she could never catch 
 Topsy doing them. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 EVA. 
 
 Two or three years passed. Uncle Tom was still with 
 Mr. St. Clare, far away from his home. He was not 
 really unhappy. But his heart ached to see his dear ones 
 again. 
 
 Now he began to have a new sorrow. He loved his 
 little mistress Eva very tenderly, and she was ill. 
 
 One day Eva seated herself on her Father's knee, and 
 laid her head on his shoulder. 
 
 "It is no use, papa, to keep it to myself any longer. 
 The time is coming when I am going: to leave you. I 
 am going, never to come back," and Eva sobbed. 
 
Eva. 35 
 
 "Eva, darling, don't say such things; you are better, 
 you know." 
 
 "No, papa, I am not any better. I know it quite 
 well, and I am going soon." 
 
 "And I want to go," she went on, "only I don't want 
 to leave you it almost breaks my heart." 
 
 "Don't, Eva, don't talk so. What makes you so sad?" 
 
 "I feel sad for our poor people. I wish, papa, they 
 were all free. Isn't there any way to have all slaves 
 made free?" 
 
 "That is a difficult question, dearest. I wish there 
 was not a slave in the land. But then, I don't know 
 what is to be done about it." 
 
 "Papa, you are such a good man, and so noble and 
 kind. Couldn't you go all round and try and persuade 
 people to do right about this? When I am dead, papa, 
 then you will think of me, and do it for my sake." 
 
 "When you are dead, Eva! Oh, child, don't talk to 
 
 me so." 
 
 "Promise me at least, father, that Tom shall have his 
 freedom, as soon as I am gone." 
 
 "Yes, dear, I will do anything you wish. Only don't 
 talk so." 
 
 Miss Ophelia and Eva had been to church together. 
 Miss Ophelia had gone to her room to take off her 
 bonnet, while Eva talked to her father. 
 
 Suddenly Mr. St. Clare and his little girl heard a 
 great noise coming from Miss Ophelia's room. A min- 
 ute later Miss Ophelia appeared, dragging Topsy be- 
 hind her. 
 
 "Come out here," she was saying. "I will tell your 
 
 master." 
 
 "What is the matter now?" asked Mr. St. Clare. 
 
 "The matter is that I cannot be plagued with this 
 child any longer," said Miss Ophelia. "It is past all 
 bearing. Here, I locked her up, and gave her a hymn 
 to learn. What does she do, but spy out where I put 
 my key. She has gone to my wardrobe, taken a bonnet- 
 
36 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 trimming, and cut it all to pieces to make dolls' jackets! 
 I never saw anything like it in my life." 
 
 "What makes you behave so?" said Mr. St. Clare. 
 
 " 'Spects it's my wicked heart; Miss Feely says so." 
 
 "What makes you so naughty, Topsy?" Eva said, 
 with tears in her eyes. "Why don't you try to be good? 
 Don't you love anybody, Topsy?" 
 
 "Dunno nothin' 'bout love. I love candy, that's all." 
 
 "Couldn't never be nothin' but a nigger, if I was ever 
 so good," said Topsy. "If I could be skinned, and 
 come white, I'd try then." 
 
 "But people can love you, if you are black, Topsy. 
 Miss Ophelia would love you if you were good." 
 
 Topsy laughed scornfully. 
 
 "Don't you think so?" said Eva. 
 
 "No. She can't bear me, 'cause I'm a nigger. She'd 
 as soon have a toad touch her. There can't nobody love 
 niggers, and niggers can't do nothin'. I don't care," 
 and Topsy began whistling to show that she didn't. 
 
 "Oh, Topsy! I love you," said Eva, laying her little, 
 thin hand on Topsy's shoulder. "I love you, because 
 you haven't had any mother, or father, or friends; be- 
 cause you have been a poor, ill-used child. I love you, 
 and I want you to be good. It makes me sorry to have 
 you so naughty. I wish you would try to be good for 
 my sake, because I'm going to die soon. I shan't be 
 here very long." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Eva, dear Miss Eva," cried the poor little 
 black child, "I will try, I will try. I never did care 
 nothin' about it before." 
 
 Eva was very ill indeed. She never ran about and 
 played now, but spent most of the day lying on the sofa 
 in her own pretty room. 
 
 Every one loved her, and tried to do things for her. 
 Even naughty little Topsy used to bring her flowers, 
 and try to be good for her sake. 
 
 Uncle Tom was a great deal in Eva's room. She used 
 
Eva. 37 
 
 to get very restless, and then she liked to be carried 
 about. 
 
 He loved to do it, and could not bear to be long away 
 from his little mistress. He gave up sleeping in his bed, 
 and lay all night on the mat outside her door. 
 
 One day Eva made her aunt cut off a lot of her beauti- 
 ful hair. Then she called all the slaves together, said 
 good-bye to them, and gave them each a curl of her 
 hair as a keep-sake. They all cried very much, and said 
 they would never forget her, and would try to be good 
 for her sake. 
 
 A few nights later Miss Ophelia came quickly to 
 Tom, as he lay on the mat outside Eva's door. "Go, 
 Tom," she said, "go as fast as you can for the doctor." 
 
 Tom ran. But in the morning little Eva lay on her 
 bed, cold and white, with closed eyes and folded hands. 
 
 She had gone to God. 
 
 Mr. St. Clare was very unhappy for a long time after 
 Eva died. He had loved her so much, that his life 
 seemed quite empty without her. 
 
 He did not forget his promise to her about Tom, and 
 had his lawyer begin writing out the papers that would 
 make Tom free. It took some time to make a slave free. 
 
 "Well, Tom," said Mr. St. Clare the day after he 
 had spoken to his lawyer, "Fm going to make a free man 
 of you. So have your trunk packed, and get ready to 
 set out for home." 
 
 Joy shone in Uncle Tom's face. "Bless the Lord," 
 he said, raising his hands to heaven. 
 
 Mr. St. Clare felt rather hurt. He did not like Tom 
 to be so glad to leave him. 
 
 "You haven't had such a very bad time here that you 
 need be in such rapture, Tom," he said. 
 
 "No, no, mas'r! tan't that. It's bein' a free man! 
 That's what I'm joyin' for." 
 
 "Why, Tom, don't you think that you are really bet- 
 ter off as you are?" 
 
38 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 "No, indeed, Mas'r St. Clare," said Tom, very decid- 
 edly; u no, indeed." 
 
 "But, Tom, you couldn't possibly have earned by 
 your work such clothes and such nice, comfortable 
 rooms and good food as I have given you." 
 
 "I knows all that, Mas'r St. Clare. Mas'r has been 
 too good. But, mas'r, I'd rather have poor clothes, 
 poor house, poor everything, and have 'em mine, than 
 have the best, and have 'em any man's else. I had so, 
 mas'r. I thinks it's nature, mas'r. 
 
 "I suppose so, Tom. You will be going off and leav- 
 ing me, in a month or two," he said, rather discontent- 
 edly. "Though why you shouldn't, I don't know," he 
 added, in a gayer voice. 
 
 "Not while mas'r is in trouble," said Tom. "I'll stay 
 with mas'r as long as he wants me so as I can be of 
 any use." 
 
 "Not while I am in trouble, Tom?" said Mr. St. 
 Clare, looking sadly out of the window. "And when 
 will my trouble be over?" Then half-smiling he turned 
 from the window, and laid his hand on Tom's shoulder. 
 "Ah, Tom, you soft, silly boy," he said. "I won't keep 
 you. Go home to your wife and children, and give 
 them all my love." 
 
 "Cousin," said Miss Ophelia, coming into the room, 
 "I want to speak to you about Topsy." 
 
 "What has she been doing now?" 
 
 "Nothing; she is a much better girl than she used to 
 be. But I want to ask you, whose is she yours or 
 mine?" 
 
 "Why, yours, of course ; I gave her to you," said Mr. 
 St. Clare. 
 
 "But not by law. There is no use my trying to make 
 this child a Christian, unless I can be quite sure that 
 she will not be sold as a slave again. If you are really 
 willing I should have her, I want you to give me a 
 paper saying she is mine." 
 
Uncle Tom's New Master. 39 
 
 He wrote out the paper, and Topsy belonged to Miss 
 Ophelia. That evening Mr. St Clare went out into the 
 town for a walk. 
 
 Tom sat down on the verandah to wait till his master 
 came home, and fell asleep. 
 
 He was awakened by loud knocking, and the sound of 
 voices at the gate. 
 
 He ran to open it, and met several men carrying Mr. 
 St. Clare. He had been hurt in an accident, and was 
 dying. 
 
 In a short time he had gone to join his little Eva. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 UNCLE TOM'S NEW MASTER. 
 
 There had been deep grief in the house when Eva 
 died. Now there was not only sorrow, but gloom and 
 fear. 
 
 The kind master was dead, and the poor slaves asked 
 themselves in despair what would happen to them now. 
 
 They were not long left in doubt. One morning 
 Mrs. St. Clare told them they were all to be sold. She 
 was going back to her father's house to live, and would 
 not want them any more. 
 
 Poor Uncle Tom! The news was a dreadful blow ta 
 him. For a few days he had been so happy in the 
 thought of going home. Once more, after all these 
 years, he thought he would see his dear wife and little 
 children. Now, at one stroke, he had lost both his 
 kind master and his hope of freedom. 
 
 Instead of going home, he was to be sent farther 
 away than ever from his dear ones. He could not bear 
 it. He tried to say, "Thy will be done, but bitter tears 
 almost choked the words. 
 
 He had one hope left. He would ask Miss Ophelia 
 to speak to Mrs. St. Clare for him. 
 
 "Mas'r St. Clare promised me my freedom, Miss 
 
40 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 Feely," he said. "He told me that he had begun to 
 take it out for me. And now, perhaps, if you would be 
 good enough to speak about it to missis, she would feel 
 like going on with it. Seeing it was Mas'r St. Clare's 
 wish, she might." 
 
 "I'll speak for you, Tom, and do my best," said Miss 
 Ophelia. 
 
 So she asked Mrs. St. Clare to set Tom free. 
 
 "Indeed, I shall do no such thing," she replied. "Tom 
 Is worth more than any of the other slaves. I couldn't 
 afford to lose so much money. 
 
 "Well," said Miss Ophelia, "it was one of the last 
 wishes of your husband that Tom should have his free- 
 dom. He promised dear little Eva that he should have 
 it. I think you ought to do it." 
 
 Then Mrs. St. Clare began to cry, and say every one 
 was unkind to her, and Miss Ophelia saw it was no use 
 saying anything more. There was only one other thing 
 she could do. She wrote to Mrs. Shelby, telling her 
 that poor Uncle Tom was going to be sold again. She 
 asked her to send money to buy him back, as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 The next day, Uncle Tom and the other slaves be- 
 longing to Mr. St. Clare were sent to market to be sold. 
 
 A cruel man, whose name was Legree, bought 
 Uncle Tom, several other men slaves, and two women. 
 One of the women was a pretty young girl, who had 
 never been away from her mother before. Her mother, 
 who had just been sold to a kind-hearted man, was cry- 
 ing piteously, "O, mas'r, please do buy my daughter." 
 But the bids were so high the man did not have money 
 enough to buy her, so she was sold to Legree. The men, 
 Uncle Tom among them, had heavy chains put on both 
 hands and feet. Then Legree drove them all on to a 
 boat which was going up the river to his plantation. 
 
 At last the weary journey was over. Legree and his 
 Slaves landed. 
 
 Now began the saddest time of Uncle Tom's life. 
 
"O, MAS'K PLEASE DO BUY MY DAUGHTER." [PAGE 40. 
 
Uncle Tom's New Master. 41 
 
 Every morning very early the slaves were driven out 
 into the fields like cattle. All day long they worked 
 hard. The burning sun blazed down upon them, mak- 
 ing them hot and tired. Legree and his two chief slaves, 
 called Quimbo and Sambo, marched about all the time 
 with whips in their hands. At night they drove the 
 slaves back again to their miserable huts. 
 
 But before they could rest, they had to grind and cook 
 the corn for their supper. When at last they did go to 
 sleep, they had to lie on the heaps of dirty straw instead 
 of in comfortable beds. 
 
 Day after day passed in the same way. One day the 
 old woman who had been bought at the same time as 
 Tom was working near him. He saw she looked very 
 ill. She often prayed aloud, and trembled as if she 
 would fall. As Tom came near her he took several 
 handfuls of cotton from his own sack and dropped them 
 into hers. 
 
 "Oh, you musn't. You don't know what they'll do to 
 you," said the poor old woman. 
 
 "I can bear it better than you," said Tom. 
 
 But Sambo had seen what had happened. He told 
 Legree, who hated a kind action; he was such a cruel 
 man. 
 
 That night, although the poor old woman's basket 
 was as full as any, Legree pretended that it was not. He 
 told Tom to beat her for being so lazy. 
 
 "I beg mas'r's pardon," said Tom. "I hopes mas'r 
 won't set me to that. It's what I an't used to, never did 
 and can't do." 
 
 "What?" said Legree, seizing a whip and striking 
 Tom again and again with it. "Will you tell me now 
 you can't do it?" 
 
 "Yes, mas'r,"" said Tom. "I'm willing to work night 
 and day. I'll work while there's life and breath left in 
 me. But this thing I can't feel it right to do. And, 
 mas'r, I never shall do it, never." 
 
4* Uncle .Tom's Cabin. 
 
 "How dare you!" roared Legree. "You pretend to 
 be good. Have you never read in your Bible, "Servants 
 obey your masters?" Am I not your master? Are you 
 not mine, body and soul?" 
 
 "No, no, no! my soul an't yours," said Tom, looking 
 calmly, almost joyfully, at him. "You haven't bought it 
 you can't buy it. It's been bought and paid for by 
 One that's able to keep it. You can't harm me." 
 
 "I can't?" roared Legree. "We will see. Here, 
 Sambo! Quimbo! give him such a breaking-in that he 
 won't forget it for a month." 
 
 A few days after this, two women slaves ran away 
 from the plantation. 
 
 When Legree learned they had escaped he was ter- 
 ribly angry. 
 
 Quickly gathering a great number of men and sav- 
 age dogs, he set out to hunt them, but they could not be 
 found. 
 
 Legree had been angry when he started out. When 
 he came back his passion was furious. 
 
 He was sure Uncle Tom knew where the two women 
 were, and determined to make him tell. 
 
 "Do you know, I have made up my mind to kill you?" 
 he said to Tom. 
 
 "It's very likely, mas'r," said Tom calmly. 
 
 "I have," said Legree, "unless you tell me where 
 these two women, who have run away, are." 
 
 "I've nothing to tell, mas'r," said Tom, speaking 
 slowly and firmly. 
 
 "Do you dare tell me ye don't know?" 
 
 Again Tom was silent. 
 
 "Speak!" yelled Legree. "Do you know anything?" 
 
 "I know, mas'r. But I can't tell." 
 
 For a moment there was silence, such a silence, that 
 the tick of the old clock on the wall could be heard. 
 
 Then Legree, foaming with rage, struck Uncle Tom 
 a terrible blow, so that he fell to the ground senseless. 
 
Freedom. 43 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FREEDOM. 
 
 The letter which Miss Ophelia wrote to Mrs. Shelby, 
 telling her that Tom was to be sold again, was delayed 
 a long time. When at last it did arrive, Mr. Shelby was 
 very ill, and though Mrs. Shelby felt dreadfully sorry 
 about Uncle Tom, she could do nothing, as her husband 
 was so ill. Soon Mr. Shelby died. Mrs. Shelby was 
 very sad, but in her sorrow she did not forget her prom- 
 ise to Aunt Chloe and Uncle Tom. As soon as she could, 
 she sold some land, and George Shelby, taking the 
 money with him, went off to try to find Uncle Tom and 
 buy him back again. 
 
 At last, after searching about for months, George 
 Shelby found out where Uncle Tom was, and followed 
 him. 
 
 Two days after Legree had been so cruel, George 
 Shelby drove up the avenue and stopped at the door 
 of the old house. 
 
 "I hear," he said to Legree, "that you bought a slave 
 named Tom. He used to belong to my father. I have 
 come to buy him back again." 
 
 Legree's face grew black with anger. "Yes, I did 
 buy such a fellow," he growled in rage. "And a bad 
 bargain it was, too! 
 
 "Where is he ?" said George. "Let me see him." His 
 cheeks were crimson, and his eyes flashed fire at the 
 thought that Legree had dared to treat dear Uncle Tom 
 so badly. 
 
 "He is in that shed," said a little fellow who was 
 holding George Shelby's horse. 
 
 George, without saying another word, hurried to the 
 place to which the little bov pointed. 
 
 As he entered the shed, his head felt giddy and his 
 heart sick. 
 
44 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 Uncle Tom lay on a heap of straw on the floor, still 
 and quiet. 
 
 "Oh, dear Uncle Tom," cried George as he knelt 
 beside him, "dear Uncle Tom, do wake do speak once 
 more. Here's Mas'r George your own little Mas'r 
 George. Don't you know me ?" 
 
 "Mas'r George!" said Tom, opening his eyes, and 
 speaking in a feeble voice. "Mas'r George? It is it 
 is. It's all I wanted. They haven't forgot me. It 
 warms my soul ; it does my old heart good. Now I 
 shall die content." 
 
 "You shan't die! you mustn't die, nor think of it. I've 
 come to buy you and take you home," said George, and 
 the tears came into his eyes as he bent over poor Uncle 
 Tom. 
 
 "Oh, Mas'r George, ye're too late. The Lord has 
 bought me, and is going to take me home." 
 
 "Oh, don't. It breaks my heart to think of what 
 you've suffered lying in this old shed, too." 
 
 "You mustn't tell Chloe, poor soul, how ye found 
 me," said Tom, taking George by the hand. "It would 
 seem so dreadful to her. Only tell her ye found me 
 going into glory, and that I couldn't stay for no one. 
 And oh, the poor chil'en, and the baby my old heart's 
 been most broke for them. Tell them to follow me. 
 Give my love to mas'r, and dear, good missis, and every- 
 body in the place. I love them all." 
 
 He closed his eyes, and with a smile he fell asleep. 
 Uncle Tom too was free. 
 
 Beyond the gates of Legree's farm, George had 
 noticed a dry, sandy knoll, shaded by a few trees. There 
 he made Uncle. Tom's grave. No stone marks his last 
 resting-place. He needs none. God knows where he 
 lies. 
 
 Kneeline there George bent his head, in shame and 
 sorrow. "Hear me, dear God," he said, "from this day, 
 I will do what one man can to drive out the curse of 
 slavery from this land." 
 
Freedom. 45 
 
 George Shelby wrote a little note to his mother, tel- 
 ling her that he was conning home. He tried to write 
 about Uncle Tom, but he could not; tears blinded him, 
 and sobs choked him. 
 
 On the day he was expected every one was in a state 
 of bustle and excitement. Aunt Chloe in a new print 
 dress and clean white apron walked round the supper- 
 table, making sure that everything was right. Her black 
 face shone with joy at the thought of seeing Uncle Tom 
 again. 
 
 "I'm thinking my old man won't know the boys and 
 the baby," she said. 
 
 Just then the sound of wheels was heard. ^ 
 
 "It's Mas'r George," cried Aunt Chloe, running to 
 the window in great excitement. 
 
 Mrs. Shelby ran to the door. As George met her he 
 put his arms round her, and kissed her tenderly. 
 
 Aunt Chloe stood behind anxiously looking out into 
 the darkness. 
 
 "Oh, poor Aunt Chloe," said George, gently taking 
 her hard, black hand between both his own. "I'd have 
 given all my fortune to have brought Uncle Tom home 
 with me; but he has gone to a better country." 
 
 Mrs. Shelby cried out as if she had been hurt, but 
 Aunt Chloe did not make a sound. 
 
 Then she turned and walked proudly out of the room. 
 Mrs. Shelby followed her softly, took one of her hands, 
 drew her down into a chair, and sat down beside her. 
 
 "My poor, good Chloe," she said gently. 
 
 Chloe leaned her head on her mistress's shoulder, 
 and sobbed out, "Oh, missis, 'scuse me, my heart's broke 
 dat's all." 
 
 "I know it is," said Mrs. Shelby, as her tears fell fast, 
 "and I cannot heal it." 
 
 There was silence for a little as they wept together. 
 Then George sat down beside Aunt Chloe, and took her 
 hand. He talked gently to her, telling her of Uncle 
 
46 Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 Tom's last loving messages. So she was comforted a 
 little. 
 
 One morning, about a month after this, George 
 Shelby called all his servants together, telling them he 
 had something to say to them. 
 
 They wondered what it could be, and were very much 
 surprised when he appeared, carrying a bundle of pa- 
 pers in his hand. 
 
 They were still more astonished when he gave a pa- 
 per to each one, and told them all that they were free. 
 
 With sobs and tears and shouts they pressed round 
 him, thanking and blessing him. But some of them 
 came with anxious faces, begging him to take their free 
 papers back again, and not to send them away. 
 
 "My good friends," said George, when he could get 
 silence, "there will be no need for you to leave me. We 
 want quite as many servants as we did before. But now 
 you are free men and free women. I shall pay you 
 wages for your work, and if I die, or get into debt, you 
 can't be taken away to be sold. That is all the differ- 
 ence. I want you all to stay with me, for I want to teach 
 you how to live as free men and women ought." 
 
 "One thing more," added George, when the cheering 
 and rejoicing had died away a little. "You all remem- 
 ber our good old Uncle Tom. You have heard how he 
 died, and how he sent his love to you all. It was on his 
 grave, my friends, that I made up my mind, with God's 
 help, never to own another slave, if it were possible to 
 free him. I resolved that nobody, through my fault, 
 should ever run the risk of being parted from his dear 
 ones, and of dying far from 1 them, as he died. 
 
 "So, when you rejoice in your freedom, remember 
 that you owe it to dear old Uncle Tom, and pay it back 
 in kindness to his wife and children. Think of your 
 freedom every time you see Uncle Tom's Cabin; and 
 let it help you to try to live as he did, and to be as hon- 
 est and faithful and Christian as he was." 
 
Z15Y 
 US'