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'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 him? 'He hasn't done anything it isn't for that.
A man ought to find every woman in his wife, as the squalid poets of the seventeenth century made their Manons figure as Iris and Chloe. "Well," said Lisbeth to the Pole, as she beheld him fascinated, "what do you think of Valerie?" "She is too charming," replied Wenceslas. "You would not listen to me," said Betty.
"Yes, sah; but me not going to leave massa's silver for dose villains to find." Lucy laughed. "At any rate, Chloe, we can turn the silver into money if we run short. Now the kettle is boiling." It was taken off the fire, and Lucy poured some tea into it from the canister, and then proceeded to cut up the bread.
Bettah come right 'long; kase Miss Rosie she in pow'ful big hurry fo' Aunt Chloe begin dat story." "Oh yes; I never get tired hearing mammy tell that; Grandma Elsie was such a dear little girl," Grace said, making haste to obey the summons.
Bright, who had returned a captain, appeared with his company, consisting of Tom and Chloe with their children, and Tulee with her children, singing a parody composed by himself, of which the chorus was: "Blow ye the trumpet abroad o'er the sea, Columbia has triumphed, the negro is free! Praise to the God of our fathers! 'twas He, Jehovah, that triumphed, Columbia, through thee."
I gave Neb and Chloe their freedom-papers, the day the faithful couple were married, and at once relieved their posterity from the servitude of eight-and-twenty, and five-and-twenty years, according to sex, that might otherwise have hung over all their elder children, until the law, by a general sweep, manumitted everybody.
Mawley would probably have gladly lingered yet awhile longer amid the festive scenes of clerical bachelorhood, flirting in a devout way, of course under the shade of the church, with Chloe and Daphne, those unappropriated spinsters of the parish who took pleasure in ministering to the social wants of the curate and others of his cloth. But, it was not to be.
'Aha! quoth the latter; 'we have an Argus! and as the duchess was not on the heights, and the sun's rays were mild in cloud, he agreed to his young friend's proposal that they should advance to meet her. Chloe walked with them, but her face was disdainful; at the stiles she gave her hand to Mr. Beamish; she did not address a word to Mr. Camwell, and he knew the reason.
"You see now," he smiled, "why I built the storehouse so large?" Chloe nodded, and regarded him intently. "Yes, I see that," she answered gravely, "but there are things I do not see. Of course you have heard of the attack by MacNair's Indians?" Lapierre assented. "At Smith Landing I heard it," he answered, and waited for her to proceed. "Had you expected this attack?"
"Don't 'pear so sorrowful, darlin'," she sometimes said to her; "try to be merry, like Miss Enna, and run and jump on Massa Horace's knee, and den I tink he will like you better." "O mammy! I can't," Elsie would say; "I don't dare to do it." And Chloe would sigh and shake her head sorrowfully. "With more capacity for love than earth Bestows on most of mortal mould and birth." "What are our hopes?
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