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UNCLE TOM'S
TOST k"NT>
UNCLE TOM'S
CABIN
"LITTLE FOLKS' EDITION"
BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWS?
ILLUSTRATED
CHARLES E. GRAHAM & CO.
NEWARK, N. J. TEV Y01K
Made in U. S. 4
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
CHAPTER I.
UNCLE TOM IS SOLD.
During the days of slavery people went to slave markets and
bought negroes to do their work, just as nowadays we buy clothes,
furniture, or animals of any kind. If the slaves were fortunate
enough to be bought by kind masters they were happy and well
treated. But, sad to say, some slave owners treated the poor negroes
worse than animals, saying, "It doesn't matter; black people have
no feelings." One of the hardest things for the slaves to bear was
the separations from their families, for usually they were sold sep¬
arately to different masters.
Uncle Tom, about whom this story is written, was one of the
fortunate slaves. He was treated kindly by his master, Mr. Shelby,
who knew Uncle Tom was a good and honest servant. Aunt Chloe,
Uncle Tom's wife, was Mr. Shelby's head cook, and an excellent one,
too. The old colored couple lived happily together with their chil-
drsr. in a pretty little cabin, covered with flowers, near Mr. Shelby's
big house. They were happy there for many years, Aunt Chloe
working in the kitchen of the big house all day, and Uncle Tom in
t
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
the fields. Ivlr. Shelby was so kind and honest he did not make
much money, and once, when in great need, he borrowed money from
a man named Mr. Haley. But the day never came when Mr. Shelby
could pay back what he had borrowed, and Mr. Haley made him sell
everything he could to get money for him. At last Haley said, "I
must have that slave of yours called Tom, or I will sell your house
and lands." Poor Mr. Shelby knew Haley was not a good man, and
would want to sell Tom again, so as to make money, and said, "No,"
he thought too much of the negro. At last he had to agree, however,
then Mr. Haley said he must have another slave to cover the debt
in full. Just then he saw a bright little boy go skipping by, and
asked for him. Mr. Shelby had to say "Yes" to save his house and
lands, but he felt very badly, as he loved Uncle Tom and Harry, the
little boy, who was the son of Mrs. Shelby's maid, Eliza. Mr. Haley
went away then, intending to come back next morning after Uncle
Tom and Harry, who were 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 anv+hing or
anybody instead."
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
iSliza was sitting in the next room. The door was not quite
closed, so she could not help hearing1 what was said. As she listened
she grew pale and cold, and a terrible look cf pain cam a 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 dreadfully, 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:
"Oh, missis! 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 right,
and seeing his mother bending over him, with her hat and jackef on-
"What is the matter, mother?" he said, beginning to cry.
'Hush!" she said. "Harry mustn't cry or speak aloud, or they
<riJl hear us. A wicked man was coming to take little Hnrry away
from his mother, and carry him 'way off in the dark. But mother
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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
liim 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 as¬
tonished, 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.
"What has Tom done that master should sell himP"
"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
"I'M RUNNING AWAY, UNCLE TOM."
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
ain't ligxiT, the good Lord will forgive me, for I can't domg
it."
"Tom," said Aunt Chloe, "Why don't you go too? There's time."
Tom slowly raised his head and looked sorrowfully at her.
''Ho, 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!"
Then Eliza went cut 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.
8
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
Mru 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 X 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.
Tfarry dropped his little weary head upon her shoulder, and wag
soon fast asleep.
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
miiza walked on and on, never resting, all through the light.
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 herself and Harry at a farm-house.
When it was nearly dark, she arrived at a village, on the banks
of the Ohio Biver. 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 wo¬
man was busy cooking supper.
"Is there a boat that takes people across the river nowP" she
asked.
"No, indeed," replied the woman. "The boats have stopped run¬
ning. 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 eould 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
10
UNCLE T O M ' S CABIN
door to the river. She seized lier 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 moment. With wild cries she
leaped to another and still another—stumbling—leaping—slipping—
springing up again!
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 perfectly
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
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 won¬
derful 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 EINDS A REETJGE.
A lady and gentleman were sitting talking happily together in
the drawing-room of the white house to which Eliza had gone. Sud¬
denly their old black man-of-all-work put his head in at the door
and said, "Will missis come into the kitchen?"
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 of?
his shoes and stockings, to warm the little cold feet.
^Poor creature," said the lady,
u
ELIZA CROSSING THE ICE
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
feuadenly 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 Tbe 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 gentleman 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.
J7NCLE TOM'S CABIN
The Quakers were gentle, quiet people. They all dressed aiike
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, "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 mustn'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 very soon. Will thee tell
herf"
Rachel went back into the kitchen, where Eliza was sewing, and,
opening the do©* 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, nc! never fear thee. It's good news, Eliza," said Simeon.
*Achel shut the door, and drew Eliza towards her.
is
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
liie Lord has been very good to thee," she said gently. "Thy
tiusband 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 night, £hey were landed on the shore,
and stood still till the boat had started again. At last the^ ^ere
free.
Then with tears of joy, the husband and wife, with their won*
xe
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
dering little "boy in their arms, knelt down and lifted up their hearts
to God.
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 cook¬
ing 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."
1C
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"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 sJiould be so! Mas'r never ought to have
left it so that ye could be took for Ms 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 ye've been, reckonin' on him more
than your own wife and chil'en."
"Chloe! now, if ye love me, you won't talk so, when 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 some¬
where, 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 let¬
ting 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.
"Lor', now, missis, don't—don't," she said. She too burst out
trying again, and for a few minutes they all sobbed together.
"Tom," said Mrs. Shelby at last, "I can't do anything for you
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 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 some¬
thing done to a pair of handcuffs, leaving Tom in the cart.
Tom was sitting there, very mournfully, when suddenly he heard
the quick, short click of a horse's hoofs behind him. Almost before
he knew what was happening, 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 ma^ a movement with his feet, and George's eyes fell
on the chains*
to
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"What a shame," he cried. "I'll knock that old fellow 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 Lin¬
coln, 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, noways 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."
"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 com¬
ing 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
si
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
motucr. 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 down-hearted."
"Good-bye, Mas'r George," said Tom. "God Almighty 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 hap¬
pened to be a black man and a slave.
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 +hem to prison with Tom.
"WHAT HAVE YOU GOT FOR ME TO-DAY?'*
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 enjoying the bright spring sun¬
shine.
Down on the lower deck, in the dark, among the luggage, 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 very much like a little
angel.
Often she would come, and walk sadly around 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, thsy soon grew to be great friends.
"What is missy's name?" said Tom one day.
"Evangeline St. Clare," said the little girl; "though papa and
©verybodv ^nll me Eva. Now, what's your name?"
v
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"My name's Tom. Tlie little cMl'en at my old home used to call
me Uncle Tom."
"Then I mean to call yon 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 c.t this moment, the boat stopped at a small landing-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.
JBut 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.
26
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"Come, Eva," said Mr. St. Clare, and taking her hand, went
across the boat to Tom.
"Look up, Tom," she said to him, "and see how you like your
new master."
MT. St. Clare had such a gay, young, handsome face, that Tom
could not help feeling glad. Grateful tears rushed to his eyes as he
eaid, "God bless you, -paas'r."
CHAPTER VI.
¥JTCLE TOM'S LETTER.
TJncle Tom felt that he was Indeed very fortunate to have found
such a kind master and so good a tiome. He had nice clothes, plenty
of food, and a comfortable room to sleep in. He had no hard, dis¬
agreeable 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.
s«
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 manage 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 remem¬
ber, he was not quite sure which he ought to use.
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 making!"
"I'm trying to write to my old woman and my little chil'en, Miss
Eva," said Tom, drawing the back of his hand over his eyes to wipe
away the tears. "But somehow 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."
"Missis said that she would send down money for me, as soon as
they could get it together," said Tom. "Young Mas'r George, he s<iid
he'd come for me. He gave me this dollar as a sign," and Tom drer-
the precious dollar from under his coat.
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"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 Mr. 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," said her 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.
ATJNT CHLOE GOES TO LOUISVILLE.
iLate 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,
"f was very hot, and all the doors and windows were wide open.
"Do vou know," said Mrs. Shelby, "that Chloe has tMa letter
from Tom?'
ti
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"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. Shelby. "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 cannot raise the money, so you had better let Tom know it is im¬
possible."
"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 way," re¬
plied Mrs. Shelby.
"Don't speak of such a thing. I should never allow it," replied
Mr. Shelby quite crossly.
Just then Aunt Ciiloe came and asked if "Missis would come and
look at dis lot of poetry."
Aunt Chloe always would call poultry poetry, in spite of any'
thing one could say to her.
"I can't see it," she would say. "One word is just as good as
another. Poetry is something nice." So poetry Chloe called it.
Mrs. Shelby went to look at the poultry. She soon saw, how-
eve*, that it was only an excuse. Aunt Chloe didn't really want her
t© 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?"
t*
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"X don't understand," said Mrs. Shelby.
"Why, laws me, missis," said Chloe, "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 dollars 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, 'long-
side 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 questioning way.
"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 sh?51
laid p-tfo to buy Tom back with."
UNCLE TOM'S CABI N
and all day long was busy dusting and tidying, till Mrs. St. Clare
said it made her tired to see cousin Ophelia so "busy.
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 morn"
ing 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 nutmegs, 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 spilling 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 cupboard."
"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.99
"WA, HAVE YOU KEPT COUNT OF YOUR THITTOS?"
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"Do you use your mistress's "best saucers for that?"
"Law! It was cause I was driv and in such, a hurry. I was go¬
ing to ch.an.ge 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?"
"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 tableP"
"Law, missis, it gets so full of dishes, and one thing and an¬
other, 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 Bina.li.
"But you don't want holes in the papers/**
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
♦'Them's handy for sifting tlism out.''
"But, -^ou see, it spills all ovt •: t".;.o drawer."
"Laws, yes! If missis will go a-tuniblin' things all up so, it
will," said Dinah, coming1 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."
"Gh, 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, a-hinderin'
and gettin' my things all where I can't find 'em."
Miss Ophelia soon saw that Dinah was indeed hopeless. 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.
Cr.0 morning, while Miss Ophelia was busy, as usual, she heard
Mr. St. Clare calling from the foot of the stairs.
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"Come dc-wu here, cousin. I have sometMng to show you."
"What is it?5' fcaid Ivliss 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 glittered 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 bar, I'm sure."
"Well, the fact is, cousin," said Mr. St. Clare, drawing her aside,
"she belonged to some people who were dreadfully cruel and beat her.
I couldn't bear to hear her screaming every day, so I bought her. I
will give her to you. Bo 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, Hiss 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
"<vas your mother?"
"Never had none," said Topsy, with another grin.
39
GNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"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 no thin'!"
"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 master and mis¬
tress?"
"Fetch water, wash dishes, 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 seised a pair of gloves and a ribbon,
which were lying on the dressirg-table, and slipped them up her
sleeves. When Miss Ophelia looked up again, the l^aughty little girl
was standing with meekly-folded hands as before.
"Now, Topsy, let me see you do this," said Mis* Ophelia, pulling
the clothes off again and seating herself.
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 finishing, an end of ribbon came
Haggling out of her sleeve.
TVT.at is this?" said Miss Ophelia, seizing it. "You naughty,
wicked child—you have been stealing this."
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"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 min-
nit."
"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 bare-faced 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 Hiss Ophelia kindly, "if you will confer, nil
about it, I won't whip you this time."
So Topsy confessed to having stolen both the ribbon and the
40
TOPSY AT THE DRESSING TABLE.
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
gloves. She said she was very, very sorry, and would neTrci do it
again.
"Well, now, tell me," said Miss Ophelia, "have you taken any¬
thing 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 naughty child! Well, what elseP"
"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, ai*d 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 Ophe¬
lia.
"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.
X forgot to take it off when I went to bed."
Miss Ophelia looked perfectly astonished. She was more aston¬
ished still when, next minute, Rosa, who was one of the housemaids,
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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
thing-s, Topsy?"
"Why, missis said I must 'fess. I couldn't think of nothing else
to 'fess,v' said Topsy, wiping her eyes.
"But, of course, I didn't want you to confess things you didn't
do," said Miss 0«helia. "That is telling a lie just as much as the
other."
"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 reading, 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
thirds could not be accidents. Yet she could never catch Topsy do¬
ing them.
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 mis¬
tress 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, 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 tMs?
4i
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
When I am dead, papa, then you will think of me, and do it for m/
sake."
"When you are dead, Eva! Oh, child, don't tr<lk 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 fa,ther.
Suddenly Mr. St. Clare and his little girl heard a great noise
coming from Miss Ophelia's room. A minute later Miss Ophelia ap¬
peared, dragging Topsy behind 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-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 any¬
body, 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,*"
4#
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
said Topsy. "If I could be skinned, and come white, l u ti>
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; because 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 new,
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 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 hi?
4?
UNCLE TOM'S CABiiv
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 beautiful 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 with¬
out 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, "I'm 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, rais¬
ing his hands to heaven.
Mr. 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.
if
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"No, iio, mas'r! 'tain;t that. It's bein' a free man! That's what
I'm joy in' fori"
"Why, Tom, don't you think that you are really better off as
you are?"
"No, indeed, Mas'r St. Clare," said Tom, very decidedly; "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 know 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 leaving me, in
a month or two," he said, rather discontentedly. "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?"
so
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
''Nothing; she is a much better girl than she used to Dc. But x
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."
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 XI.
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. Clase
61
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 to 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 his kind master
and his hope of freedom.
Instead of going home, he was to be sent farther away than ever
from Lis 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 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 freedom. 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
^er, and Miss Ophelia saw it was no use saying anything more.
"DOB'S YOU ITNTOW TOXT'S ALL SINNERS P>?'
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 belonging 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 crying
piteously, "0, 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. 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, making them hot and tired. Legree and his two chief slaves,
called Sambo and Quimbo, 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
"Hay after day passed in the same way. One day the old
u
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
who Had been bought at the same time as Tom was working near hrm.
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 mustn'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 ior
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 ain'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 for me to do. And, mas'r, I never shall do it,
never."
"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 ain'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 ?'Qep it. You
can't harm me."
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
"I can'tP" roared Legree. "We will see. Here, Sambo! QuimboJ
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.
Quickly gathering a great number of men and savage 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 knowP"
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.
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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 promise 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 found
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 hors»-
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
George, without saying another word, hurried to the place to
which the little boy pointed.
As he entered the shed, his head felt giddy and his heart sick.
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. Ard 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, erood missis, and everybody in the place. I love
them all."
He closed his eyes, and with a smile he fell asleep. Uncle Tom.
too, was free.
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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.
Kneeling 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."
George Shelby wrote a little note to his mother, telling her that
he was coming 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 into the darkness.
"Oh, poor Aunt Chloe," said George, gently taking her hard,
alack hand between both his own. "I'd have given all my fortune
to have brought Uncle Tom home with me; but he has Rone to a
better country."
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
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* shoulder, and sobbed out,
"Oh, missis, 'scuse me, my heart's broke—dat's all."
"I know," said Mrs. Shelby, as her tears fell fast, "and I cannot
do anything to cure it."
George talked to Aunt Chloe very gently, and gave her dear
Uncle Tom's last loving message.
A great surprise came to the Shelby servants when, one morning,
their master George called them all together and told them they
were to be free, and gave to each a paper which gave them their free¬
dom. "When they realized that this might mean separation and
leaving the old home where they had been so happy, the slaves be¬
came anxious and said:
"We don't want to be free if it means we must leave you and
missis. Oh! Mas'r George, take back the papers; we don't want to
go away."
George then assured them that they would not need to leave, and
that he would be very sorry if they should do so. He also said, "I
will need all of you to work for me as heretofore, but will pay you
wages hereafter, and you will be free to come and go, and do as you
please. I want you to learn to live independently and conduct your¬
selves as you should."
UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
The slaves rejoiced when they understood what, their new condi¬
tion was to be.
George then told them of how Uncle Tom had died and how,
standing by the grave of the dear old man, he had resolved to free
all his slaves and never to own another one, and that he would not
be a party to a condition of things that would make possible such
sad separations as would constantly occur through the sale of slaves.
He said, "From now on you are all free, and in your freedom do
not fail to live as good Christian men and women, and extend all the
love and kindness toward Aunt Chloe and the children of Uncle
jDom's Cabin."