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Updated: September 19, 2025
Doctor Prance was looking at her at Miss Birdseye with little, sharp, fixed pupils; and the good lady wondered whether she were angry at having been induced to come up. She had a general impression that when genius was original its temper was high, and all this would be the case with Doctor Prance.
Verena had been in the habit of meeting martyrs from her childhood up, but she had seen none with so many reminiscences as Miss Birdseye, or who had been so nearly scorched by penal fires. She had had escapes, in the early days of abolitionism, which it was a marvel she could tell with so little implication that she had shown courage.
His companion turned upon him, slowly and mildly, and each of her glasses, in her aspect of reproach, had the glitter of an enormous tear. "Do you regard us, then, simply as lovely baubles?" The effect of this question, as coming from Miss Birdseye, and referring in some degree to her own venerable identity, was such as to move him to irresistible laughter.
"We have been a very happy little party," she said to the old lady. "It is delightful that you should have been able to be with us all these weeks." "It has been a great rest. I am very tired. I can't speak much. It has been a lovely time. I have done so much so many things." "I guess I wouldn't talk much, Miss Birdseye," said Doctor Prance, who had now knelt down on the other side of her.
His hovering about Miss Chancellor's habitation without going in was a strange regimen to be subjected to, and he was sorry not to see more of Miss Birdseye, besides often not knowing what to do with himself in the mornings and evenings. For the mornings, sometimes, he had the resource of Doctor Prance, with whom he made a great many excursions on the water.
It was not that her aspect was funereal; but it contained, somehow, an announcement that she had, for the present, no more thought to give to casting a line. Miss Birdseye had quietly passed away, in the evening, an hour or two after Ransom's visit. They had wheeled her chair into the house; there had been nothing to do but wait for complete extinction.
"Perhaps Miss Birdseye won't like you," she went on, as they waited for the carriage. "I don't know; I reckon she will," said Basil Ransom good-humouredly. He evidently had no intention of giving up his opportunity. From the window of the dining-room, at that moment, they heard the carriage drive up.
"That depends on whether she will receive me." "Well, if she knows you are shaken, that will go a great way," said Miss Birdseye, a little musingly, as if even to her unsophisticated mind it had been manifested that one's relations with Miss Chancellor might be ticklish. "But she can't receive you now can she? because she's out.
Miss Birdseye could see as much as this, but she couldn't hear, so that she didn't know what it was that made Verena turn suddenly back to him, at something he said. If she had known, perhaps his observation would have struck her as less singular under the circumstances in which these two young persons met than it may appear to the reader.
The name of the master was Green; he was a native of Auburn, New York, and had been at the south but a few years. Mr. EZEKIEL BIRDSEYE, of Cornwall, Conn., a gentleman well known and highly respected in Litchfield county, who resided a number of years in South Carolina, gives the following testimony: "A man by the name of Waters was killed by his slaves, in Newberry District.
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