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diff --git a/28021-8.txt b/28021-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1a49dee --- /dev/null +++ b/28021-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1653 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Pictures and Stories from Uncle Tom's Cabin, by Unknown + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pictures and Stories from Uncle Tom's Cabin + +Author: Unknown + +Editor: John P. Jewett + +Release Date: February 8, 2009 [EBook #28021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES FROM UNCLE TOM'S CABIN *** + + + + +Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file made using scans of public domain works at the +University of Georgia.) Music file created by Linda Cantoni. + + + + + + + + + + + +THIS LITTLE WORK + +IS DESIGNED TO ADAPT + +MRS. STOWE'S TOUCHING NARRATIVE + +TO THE UNDERSTANDINGS OF THE YOUNGEST READERS + +AND TO FOSTER IN THEIR HEARTS + +A GENEROUS SYMPATHY FOR THE + +WRONGED NEGRO RACE OF AMERICA. + +The purpose of the Editor of this little Work, has been to adapt it for +the juvenile family circle. The verses have accordingly been written by +the Authoress for the capacity of the youngest readers, and have been +printed in a large bold type. The prose parts of the book, which are +well suited for being read aloud in the family circle, are printed in a +smaller type, and it is presumed that in these our younger friends will +claim the assistance of their older brothers or sisters, or appeal to +the ready aid of their mamma. + +JANUARY, 1853. + + Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by + JOHN P. JEWETT AND COMPANY, + In the Clerk's Office of the District Court + of the District of Massachusetts. + + + + +PICTURES AND STORIES + +From + +UNCLE TOM'S CABIN. + +Published by John P. Jewett & Co., Boston. + + + + +UNCLE TOM'S PICTURE BOOK. + + + + +THE SALE OF LITTLE HARRY. + + + Come read my book good boys and girls + That live on freedom's ground, + With pleasant homes, and parents dear, + And blithesome playmates round; + And you will learn a woeful tale, + Which a good woman told, + About the poor black negro race, + How they are bought and sold. + + Within our own America + Where these bad deeds are done, + A father and a mother lived + Who had a little son; + As slaves, they worked for two rich men, + Whose fields were fair and wide-- + But Harry was their only joy, + They had no child beside. + + Now Harry's hair was thick with curls + And softly bright his eyes, + And he could play such funny tricks + And look so wondrous wise, + +[Illustration: THE SALE OF LITTLE HARRY. + + Oh children dear, 'twas sad to hear, + That for the trader's gold, + To that hard-hearted evil man + Her own sweet boy was sold.] + + + That all about the rich man's house + Were pleased to see him play, + Till a wicked trader buying slaves + Came there one winter day. + + The trader and the rich man sat + Together, at their wine, + When in poor simple Harry slipped + In hopes of something fine. + He shewed them how the dandy danced, + And how old Cudjoe walked, + Till loud they laughed and gave him grapes, + And then in whispers talked. + + The young child knew not what they said, + But at the open door + Eliza, his poor mother, stood, + With heart all sick and sore. + Oh children dear, 'twas sad to hear, + That for the trader's gold, + To that hard-hearted evil man + Her own sweet boy was sold. + + And he would take him far away, + To where the cotton grew, + And sell him for a slave to men + More hard and wicked too. + She knew that none would heed his woe, + His want, or sickness there, + Nor ever would she see his face, + Or hear his evening prayer. + + + So when the house was all asleep, + And when the stars were bright, + She took her Harry in her arms, + And fled through that cold night:-- + Away through bitter frost and snow + Did that poor mother flee; + And how she fared, and what befell, + Read on, and you shall see. + + +Before setting out, Eliza took a piece of paper and a pencil, and wrote +hastily the following note to her kind mistress, who had tried in vain +to save little Harry from being sold:-- + +"Oh missus! dear missus! don't think me ungrateful; don't think hard of +me. I am going to try to save my boy; you will not blame me! God bless +and reward you for all your kindness!" + +Hastily folding and directing this, she went to a drawer and made up a +little package of clothing for her boy, which she tied firmly round her +waist; and so fond is a mother's remembrance, that even in the terrors +of that hour she did not forget to put up in the little package one or +two of his favourite toys. + +On the bed lay her slumbering boy, his long curls falling negligently +around his unconscious face, his rosy mouth half open, his little fat +hands thrown out over the bed-clothes, and a smile spread like a sunbeam +over his whole face. "Poor boy! poor fellow!" said Eliza, "they have +sold you, but your mother will save you yet." + +It was some trouble to arouse the little sleeper; but after some effort +he sat up, and began playing with his wooden bird, while his mother was +putting on her bonnet and shawl. + +"Where are you going, mother?" said he, as she drew near the bed with +his little coat and cap. + +His mother drew near, and looked so earnestly into his eyes, that he at +once divined that something unusual was the matter. + +"Hush, Harry," she said; "mustn't speak loud, 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." + +Saying these words, she had tied and buttoned on the child's simple +outfit, and taking him in her arms, she whispered to him to be very +still; and, opening the door, she glided noiselessly out. + +It was a sparkling, frosty, starlight night, and the mother wrapped the +shawl close round her child, as, perfectly quiet with terror, he clung +round her neck. + +At first the novelty and alarm kept him waking; but after they had gone +a considerable way, poor Harry said, as he found himself sinking to +sleep-- + +"Mother I don't need to keep awake, do I?" + +"No, my darling; sleep now, if you want to." + +"But, mother, if I do get asleep, you won't let him get me?" + +"No! so may God help me!" said his mother with a paler cheek, and a +brighter light in her large dark eyes. + +"You're _sure_, an't you, mother?" + +"Yes, _sure_!" said the mother, in a voice that startled herself; for it +seemed to her to come from a spirit within, that was no part of her; and +the boy dropped his little weary head on her shoulder, and was soon +asleep. + +When morning came, as poor Harry complained of hunger and thirst, she +sat down behind a large rock, which hid them from the road, and gave him +a breakfast out of her little package. The boy wondered and grieved that +she could not eat, and when putting his arms round her neck he tried to +force some of his cake into her mouth, it seemed to her that the rising +in her throat would choke her. + +"No, no, Harry, darling! mother can't eat till you are safe! We must go +on--on--till we come to the river." And she hurried again into the road +and proceeded on her journey. + +When the trader came to take away Harry, he was in a great rage, because +neither the boy nor his mother could be found. The master who sold him +was also very angry, and ordered two of his negroes, called Andy and +Sam, to bring out two of the swiftest horses, and help the trader to +pursue Eliza, and take Harry from her. Andy and Sam did not like that +work, but being slaves, they dare not disobey. However, they did what +they could to detain the trader; for, pretending to be in great haste, +they squalled for this and that, and frightened the horses, till they +ran off over hedges and ditches, with Andy and Sam after them, laughing +till their sides ached as soon as they got out of sight. The trader all +the while stood cursing and swearing, like a wicked man as he was. + +When the horses were caught, they were so tired with their race, that he +was fain to let them stay and rest till dinner-time. But when +dinner-time came, Chloe the cook, of whom you will hear more in the +course of the story, spilled one dish, kept another long in baking; and +so the trader did not get his dinner till it was late in the afternoon. + +The horses were brought out at last, and he set off with Sam and Andy in +pursuit of poor Harry and his mother. They had gone a great way by this +time, and Eliza's feet were sore with walking all the night and day, and +Harry was ready to lie down and sleep on the snow. As the sun was +setting, they came in sight of the great river Ohio. There was no bridge +over it. People crossed in boats in the summer time, and in winter on +the thick ice, with which it was always covered. Now it was the month of +February. The ice had broken, because spring was near. The river was +swollen over all its banks, and no boatman would venture on it. There +was a little inn hard by, and there poor Eliza hoped to get a little +rest for herself and Harry, who was now fast asleep in her arms. She had +just sat down by the fire, when, who should ride into the yard but the +trader and his guides. The swift horses had brought them much quicker +than she and Harry could walk, but the weary mother would not lose her +child. She darted out with him that moment, and the verses will tell you +by what means she escaped. + + + + +ELIZA CROSSING THE RIVER + + + From her resting-place by the trader chased, + Through the winter evening cold, + Eliza came with her boy at last, + Where a broad deep river rolled. + + Great blocks of the floating ice were there, + And the water's roar was wild, + But the cruel trader's step was near, + Who would take her only child. + + Poor Harry clung around her neck, + But a word he could not say, + For his very heart was faint with fear, + And with flying all that day. + + Her arms about the boy grew tight, + With a loving clasp, and brave; + "Hold fast! Hold fast, now, Harry dear, + And it may be God will save." + + From the river's bank to the floating ice + She took a sudden bound, + And the great block swayed beneath her feet + With a dull and heavy sound. + + So over the roaring rushing flood, + From block to block she sprang, + And ever her cry for God's good help + Above the waters rang. + + And God did hear that mother's cry, + For never an ice-block sank; + While the cruel trader and his men + Stood wondering on the bank. + + A good man saw on the farther side, + And gave her his helping hand; + So poor Eliza, with her boy, + Stood safe upon the land. + + A blessing on that good man's arm, + On his house, and field, and store; + May he never want a friendly hand + To help him to the shore! + + A blessing on all that make such haste, + Whatever their hands can do! + For they that succour the sore distressed, + Our Lord will help them too. + + +When the two negroes saw Eliza's escape, they began to laugh and cheer; +on which the trader chased them with his horsewhip, cursing and swearing +as usual. But he could not get over the river, and went in very bad +temper to spend that night at the little inn, determined to get a boat, +if possible, and catch Harry in the morning. The man who had helped +Eliza up the river's bank, showed her a pretty white house at some +distance, where a kind gentleman and his wife lived. The dark night had +fallen, the tea-cups were on the table, and the fires were bright in +kitchen and parlour, when the poor mother, all wet and weary, her feet +cut by the sharp ice (for she had lost her shoes in the river), walked +in, with Harry still in her arms. Before she could ask for shelter, she +dropped down fainting on the floor. The good people of the house +thought she was dead, and raised a terrible alarm. Mr. and Mrs. Bird ran +into the kitchen to see what had happened. They were good, kind people, +and great in that place, for Mr. Bird was a member of the American +Parliament. He kept slaves himself, and tried to think it was no sin. He +had even been trying that very night, in conversation with his wife, to +defend a law lately passed, which forbade any one to give shelter to +poor runaway slaves. But Mrs. Bird would listen to no defence of such a +law, and said, "It is a shameful, wicked, and abominable law, and I'll +break it for one the first time I have a chance, and I hope I shall have +a chance too. I know nothing about politics, but I can read my Bible, +and there I see that I must feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and +comfort the desolate; and that Bible I mean to follow. No, no, John, +said she, you may talk all night, but you would not do what you say. +Would you now turn away a poor, shivering, hungry creature from your +door because he was a runaway? Would you, now?" + +Now, if the truth must be told, Mr. Bird was a very kind man, and could +not in his heart give a very decided reply to his wife; and it was just +at this moment that poor Eliza and little Harry came to his door. As we +said, Mr. and Mrs. Bird ran to the kitchen to see what had happened. +They found poor Eliza just recovering from her faint. She stared wildly +round her for a moment, and then sprang to her feet, saying, "Oh! my +Harry! have you got him?" The boy at this ran to her, and put his arms +round her neck. "Oh! he's here, he's here!" she exclaimed. And then she +cried wildly to Mrs. Bird, "O, ma'am, do protect us, don't let them get +him!" + +"Nobody shall hurt you here, poor woman," said Mrs. Bird. "You are safe; +don't be afraid." + +"God bless you," said the woman, covering her face and sobbing, while +poor little Harry, seeing her crying, tried to get into her lap. + +With many gentle and womanly offices which no one knew better how to +render than Mrs. Bird, the poor woman was rendered more calm. A +temporary bed was provided for her near the fire; and after a short +time, Eliza, faint and weary with her long journey, fell into a heavy +slumber, with little Harry soundly sleeping on her arm. + +"I wonder who and what she is," said Mr. Bird, when he had gone back to +the parlour with his wife. + +"When she wakes and feels a little rested, we shall see," said Mrs. +Bird, who began to busy herself with her knitting. + +Mr. Bird took up a newspaper, and pretended to be reading it, but it was +not long before he turned to his wife and said, "I say, wife, couldn't +she wear one of your gowns; and there's that old cloak that you keep on +purpose to put over me when I take my afternoon's nap, you might give +her that; she needs clothes." + +Mrs. Bird simply replied, "We'll see;" but a quiet smile passed over her +face as she remembered the conversation they had had together that very +night before Eliza and little Harry came to their door. + +After an hour or two, Eliza awoke, and Mr. and Mrs. Bird again went to +the kitchen. As they entered, poor Eliza lifted her dark eyes, and fixed +them on Mrs. Bird, with such a forlorn and imploring expression, that +the tears came into the kind-hearted woman's eyes. + +"You need not be afraid of anything; we are friends here, poor woman! +Tell me where you came from, and what you want?" said she. + +"I came from Kentucky," said poor Eliza. + +"And what induced you to run away?" said Mrs. Bird. + +The woman looked up with a keen, scrutinising glance, and it did not +escape her that Mrs. Bird was dressed in deep mourning. + +"Ma'am," she said, suddenly, "have you ever lost a child?" + +The question was unexpected, and it was a thrust on a new wound; for it +was only a month since a darling child of the family had been laid in +the grave. + +Mr. Bird turned round and walked to the window, and Mrs. Bird burst into +tears; but, recovering her voice, she said-- + +"Why do you ask that? I have lost a little one." + +"Then you will feel for me. I have lost two, one after another--left +them buried there when I came away; and I had only this one left. I +never slept a night without him; he was all I had. He was my comfort and +pride day and night; and, ma'am, they were going to take him away from +me--to _sell_ him--a baby that had never been away from his mother in +his life! I couldn't stand it, ma'am. I knew I never should be good for +anything if they did; and when I knew the papers were signed and he was +sold, I took him and came off in the night, and they chased me--the man +that bought him and some of master's folks, and they were coming down +right behind me, and I heard them--I jumped right on to the ice, and how +I got across I don't know, but first I knew a man was helping me up the +bank." + +"Crossed on the ice?" cried every one present. + +"Yes," said poor Eliza, slowly. "I did, God helping me. I crossed on the +ice, for they were behind me--right behind--and there was no other way!" + +All around were affected to tears by Eliza's story. + +Mr. Bird himself, to hide his feelings, had to turn away, and became +particularly busy in wiping his spectacle-glasses and blowing his nose. + +After a short pause, Mrs. Bird asked:-- + +"And where do you mean to go to, my poor woman?" + +"To Canada if I only knew where that was. Is it very far off ma'am?" +said she, looking up with a simple and confiding air to Mrs. Bird's +face. + +"Poor woman," said Mrs. Bird, "it is much further off than you think; +but we will try to think what can be done for you. Here Dinah," said she +to one of the servants, "make her up a bed in your own room close by the +kitchen, and I'll think what to do for her in the morning. Meanwhile, +never fear poor woman, put your trust in God, He will protect you." + +Mrs. Bird and her husband re-entered the parlour. She sat down in her +little rocking chair before the fire, swinging it thoughtfully to and +fro. Mr. Bird strode up and down the room, grumbling to himself. At +length, striding up to his wife, he said:-- + +"I say, wife, she'll have to get away from here this very night. That +trader fellow will be down after her early to-morrow morning." + +"To-night," said Mrs. Bird, "how is it possible--and where to?" + +"Well, I know pretty well where to," said Mr. Bird, beginning to put on +his boots. "I know a place where she would be safe enough, but the +plague of the thing is, nobody could drive a carriage there to-night but +me. The creek has to be crossed twice, and the second crossing is quite +dangerous, unless one know it as I do. But never mind. I'll take her +over myself. There is no help for it. I could not bear to see the poor +woman caught." + +"Thank you, thank you, dear John," said the wife, laying her white hand +on his--"Could I ever have loved you had I not known you better than you +do yourself?" + +Off Mr. Bird set to see about the carriage, but at the door he stopped +for a moment, and then coming back, he said, with a quivering voice,-- + +"Mary, I don't know how you'd feel about it, but there's the drawer full +of things--of--of--poor little Henry's." So saying, he turned quickly on +his heel, and shut the door after him. + +His wife opened the little bedroom door adjoining her room, and taking +the candle, set it down on the top of a bureau there; then from a small +recess she took a key, and put it thoughtfully in the lock of a drawer, +and made a sudden pause, while two boys, who, boy-like, had followed +close on her heels, stood looking, with silent, significant glances, at +their mother. And oh! mother that reads this, has there never been in +your house a drawer, or a closet, the opening of which has been to you +like the opening again of a little grave? Ah! happy mother that you are, +if it has not been so! + +Mrs. Bird slowly opened the drawer. There were little coats of many a +form and pattern, piles of aprons, and rows of small stockings; and even +a pair of little shoes, worn and rubbed at the toes, were peeping from +the folds of a paper. There was a toy horse and waggon, a top, a +ball--memorials gathered with many a tear and many a heartbreak! She sat +down by the drawer, and leaning her head on her hands over it, wept till +the tears fell through her fingers into the drawer; then suddenly +raising her head, she began, with nervous haste, selecting the plainest +and most substantial articles, and gathering them into a bundle. + +"Mamma," said one of the boys, gently touching her arm, "are you going +to give away those things?" + +"My dear boys," she said, softly and earnestly, "if our dear, loving, +little Henry looks down from heaven, he would be glad to have us do +this. I could not find it in my heart to give them away to any common +person--to anybody that was happy; but I give them to a mother more +heart-broken and sorrowful than I am; and I hope God will send his +blessings with them!" + +Mr. Bird returned about twelve o'clock with the carriage. "Mary," said +he, coming in with his overcoat in his hand, you must wake her up now. +"We must be off." Soon arrayed in a cloak, bonnet, and shawl that had +belonged to her benefactress, poor Eliza appeared at the door with her +child in her arms. When she got seated in the carriage, she fixed her +large dark eyes on Mrs. Bird's face, and seemed going to speak. Her lips +moved, but there was no sound; pointing upward with a look never to be +forgotten, she fell back in her seat and covered her face. The door was +shut, and the carriage drove on. + +It was not long before they arrived at the place where Mr. Bird thought +they would be safe from the cruel trader. It was a village about seven +miles off, consisting of neat houses, with orchards and meadows about +them. + +They all belonged to Quakers, a sect of Christians whom foolish people +laugh at, because they think it right to wear broad-brimmed hats, and +odd old-fashioned bonnets; but they do many good and charitable things, +especially for the poor negroes, and one of them took Harry and his +mother in. + +I cannot tell all the kindness the Quaker and his family did to them, +giving Harry such good things, and watching lest the trader should come +that way; but the greatest joy of all was, one evening, when a tall +strong man, called Phineas Fletcher, who was a Quaker, and a great +traveller, guided to the village Harry's poor father, George. His master +was going to sell him too, and he had run away, and searched everywhere +for his wife and child, to take them with him to Canada, which you know +belongs to England. Oh what a happy meeting that was between George, +Eliza, and little Harry. + +But they could not remain long with the kind Quakers. Their cruel +pursuers had found out where they were hid, so they had all to set out +again together. This time they were guided by the brave-hearted Phineas +Fletcher, and hoped to reach Canada in safety. But their pursuers +overtook them, and they had to run to the rocks to defend themselves, as +the verses will tell. + + + + +THE DEFENCE. + + + See Harry's poor father, with pistol in hand, + How bravely he takes on the steep rock his stand, + Over rivers, and forests, and towns he has passed, + And found his Eliza and Harry at last. + + The kind Quaker folks that wear drab, brown, and gray, + To the wanderers gave shelter and bread on their way, + Their warm clothes were given them, their waggon was lent, + And the strong-armed Phineas along with them went. + + Their hope was to journey to Canada's shore, + Where the trader or master could reach them no more; + For the English flag floats there, o'er land and o'er sea, + And they knew in its shadow the negro was free. + + But far is their way through the slave-dealing land, + And now on their track comes the trader's fierce band; + So for refuge and rest to the rocks they have run, + And the father will fight for his wife and his son. + + He fires on the first up the steep rock that springs, + But the trader comes on, shouting all wicked things, + Till Phineas right over the crag flings him clear, + Saying, "Friend, in my mind thou hast no business here." + + Then off go the traders to find them more men, + And off go the friends in their waggon again; + But don't you wish well to the good man for life, + Who would fight for his freedom, his child, and his wife? + +[Illustration: THE DEFENCE. + + But far is their way through the slave-dealing land, + And now on their track comes the trader's fierce band + So for refuge and rest to the rocks they have run, + And the father will fight for his wife and his son.] + +After this, George and Eliza, with their little Harry, journeyed on, +never stopping, except at the house of another kind friend, to disguise +themselves before going on board the steamboat, which at last brought +them safe to Canada. + + + + +ARRIVAL IN THE LAND OF FREEDOM. + + + Look on the travellers kneeling, + In thankful gladness, here, + As the boat that brought them o'er the lake, + Goes steaming from the pier. + + 'Tis Harry, like a girl disguised, + His mother, like a boy, + But the father kneels beside them, + And their hearts are full of joy. + + No man can buy or sell them, + No trader chase them more, + The land of freedom has been gained, + The good Canadian shore. + + And they are strangers on the soil, + As poor as poor can be, + But the English flag above them floats, + They know that they are free. + +George got employment in a factory, and as he was active and clever in +his work, he soon earned enough to take a pretty little house, where +they all lived together. Harry grew older, and went to school, where he +was a good boy, and never forgot how God had preserved him from the +wicked trader, and what his poor mother had suffered to bring him away. +His father, George, though he worked all day, was learning too from all +sorts of good books, which he used to read by the fire in the evenings. +He was ever thinking of the poor heathen kings in Africa, and the +negroes they sold for slaves. So at last, when he had learned a great +deal, he determined to become a missionary; and, with his wife and +family, he embarked for Africa, where he still labours, teaching the +poor negroes the glad tidings of the gospel. + + +WHO UNCLE TOM WAS. + +Now I must tell you something about Uncle Tom, from whom this book is +named. He was a negro man, as black as jet, and a slave, belonging to +Mr. Shelby, the rich man who at first owned Eliza and Harry. Mr. Shelby +had a great estate, and many slaves to cultivate it, but they all loved +and respected Tom, for he was a good Christian, and kind to everybody, +on which account they used all to call him Uncle. Tom's master was kind +to his slaves, and especially to Tom, because he was honest and careful +with his property. Tom had a cabin or cottage hard by the rich man's +house; it was built of logs cut from great trees; there was a garden in +front, with beautiful flowers and strawberries in it; and climbing +plants, so common in our country, twined along the walls. Tom had also a +wife as black as himself; her name was Chloe, and she cooked for the +Shelbys. You will remember how late she kept the trader's dinner when he +wanted to pursue Eliza. They had two little sons, with very black faces +and curly heads, and a little black baby just beginning to walk. Tom and +his family were very happy in that cabin; the poor negroes used to +gather there to hear Tom sing hymns and pray, for, as I said, he was a +pious man, and the slaves had no other church to go to, for many people +in America will not let negroes worship God with them. Mr. Shelby's son, +a very clever boy, who had gained many prizes at school, liked Tom too, +and used to come teach him to read and write in the evenings, and Tom +had great hopes of being able to read the Bible at last. As Chloe was a +cook she always contrived to have ready something very nice for Mr. +George when he came to teach her goodman, and George would stand with +one eye on Tom's copy, and another on the cake she prepared, while the +boys and the baby played about them. + +[Illustration: ARRIVAL IN THE LAND OF FREEDOM. + + No man can buy or sell them, + No trader chase them more, + The land of freedom has been gained, + The good Canadian shore.] + +But all those pleasant days came to an end. Mr. Shelby lost his money, +and got in debt to a man who dealt in slaves; for that debt he sold +little Harry to him, and the rest of it was paid with poor Tom. Think +what sad news that was for the cabin! + + + + +TOM AND HIS WIFE HAVE HEARD THAT HE IS SOLD. + + + The work of the winter day is o'er, + But Tom and his wife are weeping sore + Beside the hearth, where you can't forget + How the cakes were baked, and the copy set. + + Oh, never again will Tom be taught! + From his master, by wicked trader bought; + And he will carry poor Tom next day, + From children, and wife, and home away. + + His home--It was low of roof and wall, + But there had been room and love for all, + The peace that waits on contented days, + The voice of prayer and the hymn of praise. + + And Tom himself, he is black of skin, + But, children, his soul is fair within, + His life is good and his heart is brave, + And yet they have sold him as a slave. + +[Illustration: TOM AND HIS WIFE HAVE HEARD THAT HE IS SOLD. + + The fire-light shows on the lowly bed, + Each dusky face, and each curly head + Of his little children, sound asleep; + Oh well may their poor tired mother weep!] + + The fire light shows on the lowly bed, + Each dusky face, and each curly head + Of his little children, sound asleep; + Oh well may their poor tired mother weep! + + Now Tom is trying to soothe her woe: + "Dear Chloe 'tis best that I should go, + Our babes and you will live safely here, + And I may be far, but God is near." + + "Yet think of me, love, when I am gone, + And the days of the pleasant spring come on. + Don't grieve, dear wife"--and his tears fell fast. + "You know we will meet in heaven at last." + + +Tom might have fled away, as Eliza did with Harry, but he took pity on +Mr. Shelby for being in debt to the trader, and also feared that if he +fled, his wife and children would be sold to pay it. Poor Chloe wept +sore, and so did the boys, and all the negroes on the estate were very +sorry to part with him. George Shelby was from home when Tom was sold, +and knew nothing about the matter. But he returned that very day, and +the moment he learned that Tom was gone, he saddled his horse and rode +after him. When he came up to the waggon he sprang into it, and throwing +his arms round Tom's neck, began sobbing and scolding most violently. + +"I declare it's a shame! I don't care what they say, any of them. It's a +nasty mean shame! If I was a man, they shouldn't do it," said George. + +"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 some movement of his feet, and George's eyes fell on the fetters. + +"What a shame!" he exclaimed, lifting his hands. "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 only to think of it--isn't it a +shame? They never sent for me, nor sent me any word, and, if it hadn't +been for Tom Lincoln, I shouldn't have heard it. I tell you, I blew them +up well, all of them, at home." + +"That wasn't right, I'm feared, Mas'r George." + +"Can't help it! I say it's a shame! Look here, Uncle Tom," said he, +turning his back to the rest of the party, and speaking in a mysterious +tone, "_I've brought you my dollar!_" + +"Oh, I couldn't think o' takin' it, Mas'r George, no ways in the world," +said Tom, quite moved. + +"But you shall take it," said George. "Look here; I told Aunt Chloe I'd +do it, and she advised me just to make a hole in it, and put a string +through, so you could hang it round your neck, and keep it out of sight, +else this mean scamp would take it away. I tell ye, 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; "but there, now, button your coat tight over it, and +keep it, and remember, every time you see it, that I'll come down after +you, and bring you back. Aunt Chloe and I have been talking about it. I +told her not to fear; I'll see to it, and I'll tease father's life out +if he don't do it." + +"O, Mas'r George, ye mustn't talk so about your father! You must be a +good boy; remember how many hearts is set on ye. Always keep close to +yer mother. Don't be gettin' into them foolish ways boys has of gettin' +too big to mind their mothers. Tell ye what, Mas'r George, the Lord +gives good many things twice over; but he don't give ye a mother but +once. Ye'll never see sich another woman, Mas'r George, 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, thar's my own good boy--you will, now, won't ye?" + +"Yes, I will, Uncle Tom," said George, seriously. + +"And be careful of yer speaking, Mas'r George. Young boys, when they +come to your age, is wilful, sometimes--it's natur they should be. But +real gentlemen, such as I hopes you'll be, never lets fall no words that +isn't respectful to thar parents. Ye an't offended, Mas'r George?" + +"No indeed, Uncle Tom; you always did give me good advice." + +"I's older, ye know," said Tom, stroking the boy's fine curly head with +his large, strong hand, but speaking in a voice as tender as a +woman's--"and I sees all that's bound up in you. O, Mas'r George, you +has everything--larnin', privileges, readin', writin'--and you'll grow +up to be a great, learned, good man, and all the people on the place, +and your mother and father'll be so proud on ye! Be a good mas'r, like +yer father; and be a Christian, like yer mother. Remember yer Creator in +the days o' yer youth, Mas'r George. And now, Good-bye, Mas'r George," +said Tom, looking fondly and admiringly at him. "God Almighty bless +you!" Away George went, and Tom looked, till the clatter of his horse's +heels died away, the last sound or sight of his home. + +When the trader was disappointed in catching Harry, he put handcuffs on +poor Tom to prevent his escape, and took him away in a waggon to a town, +where he bought more slaves--children from their mothers, and husbands +from their wives--some of them as black as Tom, and some nearly white, +like Harry and his mother. Then he put them all on board of a steamboat +going down the great river Mississippi. You will see on the map that it +is one of the largest rivers in America. There are many towns on its +banks, and steamboats go from one to another carrying goods and +passengers; and the trader seeing that Tom was quiet and peaceable, took +off the handcuffs, and allowed him to go about the steamboat helping the +sailors, for Tom would help anybody. There were many people on board +besides the negroes, and among them a rich gentleman called Mr. St. +Clair. He was returning home from a visit to his relations, who lived in +New England, and had with him his little daughter Eva, and his cousin +Miss Feely. Eva had long yellow curls, and a fair, pretty face; better +than that, she had the fear of God and the love of all goodness in her +heart. Always cheerful, meek, and kindly, everybody loved Eva St. Clair, +especially her father, for she was his only daughter. Tom saw her play +about the steamboat, for they were days and nights on the voyage. Eva +used to come close and look at him, when he sat thinking of Chloe and +the children. The little one was shy, notwithstanding all her busy +interest in everything going on, and it was not easy to tame her. But at +last Tom and she got on quite confidential terms. + +"What's little missy's name?" said Tom at last, when he thought matters +were ripe to push such an inquiry. + +"Evangeline St. Clair," said the little one, "though papa and everybody +else call me Eva. Now, what's your name?" + +"My name's Tom; the little children used to call me Uncle Tom, away back +thar in Kentucky." + +"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 am going to be sold to somebody. I don't know who." + +"My papa can buy you," said Eva, quickly; "and 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. + +The boat here stopped at a small landing to take in wood, and Eva, +hearing her father's voice, bounded nimbly away. Tom rose up, and went +forward to offer his service in wooding, and soon was busy among the +hands. + +Eva and her father were standing together by the railings to see the +boat start from the landing-place; the wheel had made two or three +revolutions in the water, when, by some sudden movement, the little one +suddenly lost her balance, and fell sheer over the side of the boat, +into the water. Her father, scarce knowing what he did, was plunging in +after her, but was held back by some behind him, who saw that more +efficient aid had followed his child. + +Tom was standing just under her on the lower deck as she fell. He saw +her strike the water and sink, and was after her in a moment. A +broad-chested, strong-armed fellow, it was nothing for him to keep +afloat in the water, till, in a moment or two, the child rose to the +surface, and he caught her in his arms, and, swimming with her to the +boat-side, handed her up, all dripping, to the grasp of hundreds of +hands, which, as if they had all belonged to one man, were stretched +eagerly out to receive her. A few moments more, and her father bore her, +dripping and senseless, to the ladies' cabin, where she soon recovered. + +Her father was much rejoiced, and Eva took such a liking for Tom, that +she would not rest till the rich Mr. St. Clair had bought him from the +trader; and the girl hoped that she would one day get her father coaxed +to set him free. From that day Tom and Eva were great friends. The +steamer brought them safely to New Orleans. The trader took all his +slaves away to sell them in that town; and Tom was taken to Mr. St. +Clair's fine house, where you see him and Eva. You may also see the +doings of little Topsy, a poor negro child, whom Mr. St. Clair bought, +and made a present of to his cousin Miss Feely. + + + + +EVA PUTTING A WREATH OF FLOWERS ROUND TOM'S NECK. + + + Poor Tom is far from his cottage now, + From his own good wife, and children three, + Where coffee, and rice, and cedars grow, + By a wide old river like the sea. + + And he has a master rich and kind, + With all that his heart can well desire, + But homeward still goes the negro's mind, + To the curly heads by his cottage fire. + + He the gentle Eva's life did save, + When over the great ship's side she fell, + And brought her up from the drowning wave,-- + So Eva had grown to love him well. + + She will read to Tom for hours on hours, + And sit with him on the grass all day; + You see she is wreathing pretty flowers, + About his neck, in her pleasant play. + + Different in colour and in years + Are the negro man and that fair child's face; + But a likeness in God's sight appears, + For both are the children of his grace. + +[Illustration: EVA PUTTING A WREATH OF FLOWERS ROUND TOM'S NECK. + + She will read to Tom for hours on hours, + And sit with him on the grass all day; + You see she is wreathing pretty flowers + About his neck, in her pleasant play.] + + + + +TOPSY AT THE LOOKING GLASS. + + + See little Topsy at the glass quite gay, + Her mistress has forgot the keys to-day, + So she has rummaged every drawer, and dressed + Herself out in Miss Feely's very best. + + Mark where she stands! the shawl of gorgeous red + Wound like a Turk's great turban round her head; + A finer shawl far trailing on the floor, + Just shews her bare black elbows, and no more. + + With what an air she flaunts the ivory fan, + And tries to step as stately as she can, + Mincing fine words to her own shadow, "Dear! + How very ungenteel the folks are here!" + + But while that shadow only Topsy sees, + Back comes the careful lady for her keys, + And finds her in the grandeur all arrayed-- + Poor Topsy will be punished, I'm afraid. + + Now it is wrong, as every reader knows, + To rummage people's drawers, and wear their clothes; + But Topsy is a negro child, you see, + Who never learned to read like you and me. + + A child whom bad men from her mother sold, + Whom a harsh mistress used to cuff and scold, + Whom no one taught or cared for all her days, + No wonder that the girl had naughty ways. + +[Illustration: TOPSY AT THE LOOKING-GLASS. + + Mark where she stands! the shawl of gorgeous red + Wound like a Turk's great turban round her head, + A finer shawl for trailing on the floor, + Just shows her bare black elbows, and no more.] + + No home, no school, no Bible she had seen, + How bless'd besides poor Topsy we have been! + Yet boys and girls among ourselves, I've known + Puffed up with praise for merits not their own. + + The copy by some clever school-mate penned, + The witty saying picked up from a friend, + Makes many a miss and master look as fine, + As if they coined the words or penned the line. + + But none can keep such borrowed plumes as these, + For some one still comes back to find the keys, + And so they are found out, it comes to pass, + Just like poor Topsy at the looking-glass. + + + + +TOPSY BRINGING FLOWERS TO EVA. + + + Poor Topsy, trying to be kind, + Has brought a bunch of garden flowers + To Eva, when she lies reclined + Through the bright summer's sultry hours. + + For sickness hangs on Eva now, + She can no longer run or play, + Her cheek is pale, her voice is low, + And there she lies the livelong day. + + Yet Eva does not fear to die, + She knows a better home remains + For her, beyond the great blue sky, + Where comes no sickness, tears, or pains. + +[Illustration: TOPSY BRINGING FLOWERS TO EVA. + + "Oh mother dear, let Topsy stay," + Says Eva in her gentle mood, + "She brought such pretty flowers to-day, + Indeed she's trying to be good."] + + For in her happier days of health + She read and prized her Bible true, + Above this poor world's pride or wealth, + And loved her blessed Saviour too. + + And she like him was kind to all, + And pity on poor Topsy had, + Because the rest would scold and call + Her names, for being black and bad. + + So Eva strove to make her good, + And told her, of all tales the best, + How Christ came down to shed his blood, + That sinners might be saved and blest. + + Poor Topsy tried to understand-- + None ever taught her so before-- + And brought the sweet flowers in her hand,-- + The negro girl could do no more. + + But Eva's proud mamma comes in + With scornful look and frown severe, + She cries, "begone, you nasty thing! + In all the world what brings you here?" + + "Oh mother dear, let Topsy stay," + Says Eva in her gentle mood, + "She brought such pretty flowers to-day, + Indeed she's trying to be good." + + "I'm going fast, where there will be + No difference, but in sins forgiven, + And mother it might chance that we + Would bring poor Topsy flowers in heaven." + +[Illustration: DEATH OF EVA. + + Oh, swift and sad were the tears that fell, + As her gifts among them passed, + And Tom, he got the first fair curl, + And Topsy got the last.] + + + + +THE DEATH OF EVA. + + + There is peace on Eva's wasted brow, + And a soft light in her eye; + But her father's heart grows hopeless now, + For he knows that she must die. + + Yet the thought is kind and the trust is true, + As she takes him by the hand,-- + Dear father I will look for you + In the light of God's own land. + + "Oh let them cut the long, long curls + That flow about my head, + And let our poor kind negroes come + For a moment round my bed. + + "They have smoothed and stroked it many a day + In their kindly sport, and care, + And it may be they will think of me + When they see that curling hair." + + The negroes loved her, young and old, + With a fond and deep regard, + For Eva's look was never sour, + And her words were never hard. + + And her old nurse by the bedside stood, + Sore sobbing in her woe, + That so many sinners here should stay, + And the good and young should go. + + "Dear nurse," said Eva, "I go home + To the happiest home of all; + Where never an evil thing will come, + And never a tear will fall. + + "And I will hope each one to see, + That blessed home within; + Where Christ himself will set us free + From the bonds of death and sin." + + Oh, swift and sad were the tears that fell, + As her gifts among them passed, + And Tom, he got the first fair curl, + And Topsy got the last. + + But first and last alike were given, + With some words of love and prayer; + And it may be, hearts were helped to heaven, + By the links of that soft hair. + +When Eva was dead and buried, Tom missed her sore, but he knew it was +the will of God, and tried to comfort his master. Mr. St. Clair intended +to set him free for Eva's sake. He was a kind man, but given to delay, +and one day a wicked man stabbed him in a coffee-house, when he was +trying to settle a quarrel. Mrs. St. Clair was a proud, hard-hearted +woman, who cared for nobody but herself. She sold all the negroes, and +Tom among them, to a cruel cotton planter, called Legree, and you shall +see how he behaved. + + + + +LEGREE STRIKING TOM. + + + Tom's good wife Chloe, far at home, + And his boys so blythe and black, + Are all working hard, in hopes to win + The dollars, to buy him back. + + And George, who taught him long ago, + Has many a pleasant plan, + To pay his price, and set him free. + When he comes to be a man. + + But little does that wicked man, + In his angry madness, know, + That God himself will take account + Of each cruel word and blow. + + And children dear, who see him here, + At night and morning pray, + That you may never have aught like this + Laid up for the judgment day! + +By the time all these things happened, George Shelby had grown up; but +when he came to buy back Tom, the pious, kindly negro, had been so +ill-treated by that cruel planter, because he tried to save the other +slaves from his evil temper, that he lay dying in an old shed; and there +was no law to punish the wicked planter, because Tom was black. + +When George entered the shed where Tom lay, he felt his head giddy and +his heart sick. + +"Is it possible?" said he, kneeling down by him. "Uncle Tom, my poor, +poor old friend!" + +Something in the voice penetrated to the ear of the dying. He smiled, +and said-- + + "Jesus can make a dying bed + Feel soft as downy pillows are." + +Tears fell from the young man's eyes as he bent over his poor friend. + +"O, dear Uncle Tom! do wake--do speak once more! Look up. 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!" He looked bewildered. + +Slowly the idea seemed to fill his soul; and the vacant eye became fixed +and brightened, the whole face lighted up, the hard hands clasped, and +tears ran down the cheeks. + +"Bless the Lord' 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! Bless the Lord, O my soul!" + +He began to draw his breath with long, deep aspirations; and his broad +chest rose and fell heavily. The expression of his face was that of a +conqueror. + +"Who--who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" he said, in a +voice that contended with mortal weakness; and with a smile he fell +asleep. + +Beyond the boundaries of the plantation George had noticed a dry, sandy +knoll, shaded by a few trees; there they made a grave for poor Tom. + +"Shall we take off the cloak, mas'r?" said the negroes, when the grave +was ready. + +"No, no; bury it with him. It's all I can give you now, poor Tom, and +you shall have it." + +They laid him in; and the men shovelled away silently. They banked it +up, and laid green turf over it. + +"You may go, boys," said George, slipping a quarter dollar into the hand +of each. They lingered about, however. + +"If young mas'r would please buy us," said one. + +"We'd serve him so faithful!" said the other. "Do, mas'r, buy us, +please!" + +"I can't--I can't," said George, with difficulty, motioning them off; +"it's impossible!" + +The poor fellows looked dejected, and walked off in silence. + +"Witness, eternal God," said George, kneeling on the grave of his poor +friend--"O, witness that, from this hour, I will do _what one man can_ +to drive out this curse of slavery from my land!" + +There is no monument to mark the last resting-place of poor Tom. He +needs none. His Lord knows where he lies, and will raise him up +immortal, to appear with Him when He shall appear in his glory. + + +[Illustration: LEGREE STRIKING TOM. + + But little does that wicked man, + In his angry madness, know, + That God himself will take account + Of each cruel word and blow.] + + + + +LITTLE EVA SONG. + +UNCLE TOM'S GUARDIAN ANGEL. + + WORDS BY JOHN G. WHITTIER . . . . MUSIC BY MANUEL EMILIO. + +[Illustration: Music] + + Dry the tears for holy Eva! + With the blesséd angels leave her; + Of the form so sweet and fair, + Give to earth the tender care. + For the golden locks of Eva, + Let the sunny south land give her + Flow'ry pillow of repose, + Orange bloom and budding rose, + Orange bloom and budding rose. + + All is light and peace with Eva; + There the darkness cometh never; + Tears are wiped, and fetters fall, + And the Lord is all in all. + Weep no more for happy Eva; + Wrong and sin no more shall grieve her, + Care, and pain, and weariness, + Lost in love so measureless! + + Gentle Eva, loving Eva, + Child confessor, true believer, + Listener at the Master's knee, + "Suffer such to come to me." + O for faith like thine, sweet Eva, + Lighting all the solemn river, + And the blessing of the poor, + Wafting to the heavenly shore. + + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pictures and Stories from Uncle Tom's +Cabin, by Unknown + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES FROM UNCLE TOM'S CABIN *** + +***** This file should be named 28021-8.txt or 28021-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/0/2/28021/ + +Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file made using scans of public domain works at the +University of Georgia.) 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