英语天堂-第23部分

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’　as　he　calls　’em。　I’m　going　home　quite　resigned；　you　understand；　as　if　all　was　over。　I’ve　got　some　preparations　made；—and　there　are　those　that　will　help　me；　and；　in　the　course　of　a　week　or　so；　I　shall　be　among　the　missing；　some　day。　Pray　for　me；　Eliza；　perhaps　the　good　Lord　will　hear　you。”
“O；　pray　yourself；　George；　and　go　trusting　in　him；　then　you　won’t　do　anything　wicked。”
“Well；　now；　good…by；”　said　George；　holding　Eliza’s　hands；　and　gazing　into　her　eyes；　without　moving。　They　stood　silent；　then　there　were　last　words；　and　sobs；　and　bitter　weeping；—such　parting　as　those　may　make　whose　hope　to　meet　again　is　as　the　spider’s　web；—and　the　husband　and　wife　were　parted。
Chapter　4
An　Evening　in　Uncle　Tom’s　Cabin
The　cabin　of　Uncle　Tom　was　a　small　log　building；　close　adjoining　to　“the　house；”　as　the　negro　par　excellence　designates　his　master’s　dwelling。　In　front　it　had　a　neat　garden…patch；　where；　every　summer；　strawberries；　raspberries；　and　a　variety　of　fruits　and　vegetables；　flourished　under　careful　tending。　The　whole　front　of　it　was　covered　by　a　large　scarlet　bignonia　and　a　native　multiflora　rose；　which；　entwisting　and　interlacing；　left　scarce　a　vestige　of　the　rough　logs　to　be　seen。　Here；　also；　in　summer；　various　brilliant　annuals；　such　as　marigolds；　petunias；　four…o’clocks；　found　an　indulgent　corner　in　which　to　unfold　their　splendors；　and　were　the　delight　and　pride　of　Aunt　Chloe’s　heart。
Let　us　enter　the　dwelling。　The　evening　meal　at　the　house　is　over；　and　Aunt　Chloe；　who　presided　over　its　preparation　as　head　cook；　has　left　to　inferior　officers　in　the　kitchen　the　business　of　clearing　away　and　washing　dishes；　and　come　out　into　her　own　snug　territories；　to　“get　her　ole　man’s　supper”；　therefore；　doubt　not　that　it　is　her　you　see　by　the　fire；　presiding　with　anxious　interest　over　certain　frizzling　items　in　a　stew…pan；　and　anon　with　grave　consideration　lifting　the　cover　of　a　bake…kettle；　from　whence　steam　forth　indubitable　intimations　of　“something　good。”　A　round；　black；　shining　face　is　hers；　so　glossy　as　to　suggest　the　idea　that　she　might　have　been　washed　over　with　white　of　eggs；　like　one　of　her　own　tea　rusks。　Her　whole　plump　countenance　beams　with　satisfaction　and　contentment　from　under　her　well…starched　checked　turban；　bearing　on　it；　however；　if　we　must　confess　it；　a　little　of　that　tinge　of　self…consciousness　which　becomes　the　first　cook　of　the　neighborhood；　as　Aunt　Chloe　was　universally　held　and　acknowledged　to　be。
A　cook　she　certainly　was；　in　the　very　bone　and　centre　of　her　soul。　Not　a　chicken　or　turkey　or　duck　in　the　barn…yard　but　looked　grave　when　they　saw　her　approaching；　and　seemed　evidently　to　be　reflecting　on　their　latter　end；　and　certain　it　was　that　she　was　always　meditating　on　trussing；　stuffing　and　roasting；　to　a　degree　that　was　calculated　to　inspire　terror　in　any　reflecting　fowl　living。　Her　corn…cake；　in　all　its　varieties　of　hoe…cake；　dodgers；　muffins；　and　other　species　too　numerous　to　mention；　was　a　sublime　mystery　to　all　less　practised　compounders；　and　she　would　shake　her　fat　sides　with　honest　pride　and　merriment；　as　she　would　narrate　the　fruitless　efforts　that　one　and　another　of　her　compeers　had　made　to　attain　to　her　elevation。
The　arrival　of　company　at　the　house；　the　arranging　of　dinners　and　suppers　“in　style；”　awoke　all　the　energies　of　her　soul；　and　no　sight　was　more　welcome　to　her　than　a　pile　of　travelling　trunks　launched　on　the　verandah；　for　then　she　foresaw　fresh　efforts　and　fresh　triumphs。
Just　at　present；　however；　Aunt　Chloe　is　looking　into　the　bake…pan；　in　which　congenial　operation　we　shall　leave　her　till　we　finish　our　picture　of　the　cottage。
In　one　corner　of　it　stood　a　bed；　covered　neatly　with　a　snowy　spread；　and　by　the　side　of　it　was　a　piece　of　carpeting；　of　some　considerable　size。　On　this　piece　of　carpeting　Aunt　Chloe　took　her　stand；　as　being　decidedly　in　the　upper　walks　of　life；　and　it　and　the　bed　by　which　it　lay；　and　the　whole　corner；　in　fact；　were　treated　with　distinguished　consideration；　and　made；　so　far　as　possible；　sacred　from　the　marauding　inroads　and　desecrations　of　little　folks。　In　fact；　that　corner　was　the　drawing…room　of　the　establishment。　In　the　other　corner　was　a　bed　of　much　humbler　pretensions；　and　evidently　designed　for　use。　The　wall　over　the　fireplace　was　adorned　with　some　very　brilliant　scriptural　prints；　and　a　portrait　of　General　Washington；　drawn　and　colored　in　a　manner　which　would　certainly　have　astonished　that　hero；　if　ever　he　happened　to　meet　with　its　like。
On　a　rough　bench　in　the　corner；　a　couple　of　woolly…headed　boys；　with　glistening　black　eyes　and　fat　shining　cheeks；　were　busy　in　superintending　the　first　walking　operations　of　the　baby；　which；　as　is　usually　the　case；　consisted　in　getting　up　on　its　feet；　balancing　a　moment；　and　then　tumbling　down；—each　sucomessive　failure　being　violently　cheered；　as　something　decidedly　clever。
A　table；　somewhat　rheumatic　in　its　limbs；　was　drawn　out　in　front　of　the　fire；　and　covered　with　a　cloth；　displaying　cups　and　saucers　of　a　decidedly　brilliant　pattern；　with　other　symptoms　of　an　approaching　meal。　At　this　table　was　seated　Uncle　Tom；　Mr。　Shelby’s　best　hand；　who；　as　he　is　to　be　the　hero　of　our　story；　we　must　daguerreotype　for　our　readers。　He　was　a　large；　broad…chested；　powerfully…made　man；　of　a　full　glossy　black；　and　a　face　whose　truly　African　features　were　characterized　by　an　expression　of　grave　and　steady　good　sense；　united　with　much　kindliness　and　benevolence。　There　was　something　about　his　whole　air　self…respecting　and　dignified；　yet　united　with　a　confiding　and　humble　simplicity。
He　was　very　busily　intent　at　this　moment　on　a　slate　lying　before　him；　on　which　he　was　carefully　and　slowly　endeavoring　to　acomomplish　a　copy　of　some　letters；　in　which　operation　he　was　overlooked　by　young　Mas’r　George；　a　smart；　bright　boy　of　thirteen；　who　appeared　fully　to　realize　the　dignity　of　his　position　as　instructor。
“Not　that　way；　Uncle　Tom；—not　that　way；”　said　he；　briskly；　as　Uncle　Tom　laboriously　brought　up　the　tail　of　his　g　the　wrong　side　out；　“that　makes　a　q；　you　see。”
“La　sakes；　now；　does　it？”　said　Uncle　Tom；　looking　with　a　respectful；　admiring　air；　as　his　young　teacher　flourishingly　scrawled　q’s　and　g’s　innumerable　for　his　edification；　and　then；　taking　the　pencil　in　his　big；　heavy　fingers；　he　patiently　recommenced。
“How　easy　white　folks　al’us　does　things！”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　pausing　while　she　was　greasing　a　griddle　with　a　scrap　of　bacon　on　her　fork；　and　regarding　young　Master　George　with　pride。　“The　way　he　can　write；　now！　and　read；　too！　and　then　to　come　out　here　evenings　and　read　his　lessons　to　us；—it’s　mighty　interestin’！”
“But；　Aunt　Chloe；　I’m　getting　mighty　hungry；”　said　George。　“Isn’t　that　cake　in　the　skillet　almost　done？”
“Mose　done；　Mas’r　George；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　lifting　the　lid　and　peeping　in；—“browning　beautiful—a　real　lovely　brown。　Ah！　let　me　alone　for　dat。　Missis　let　Sally　try　to　make　some　cake；　t’　other　day；　jes　to　larn　her；　she　said。　‘O；　go　way；　Missis；’　said　I；　‘it　really　hurts　my　feelin’s；　now；　to　see　good　vittles　spilt　dat　ar　way！　Cake　ris　all　to　one　side—no　shape　at　all；　no　more　than　my　shoe；　go　way！”
And　with　this　final　expression　of　contempt　for　Sally’s　greenness；　Aunt　Chloe　whipped　the　cover　off　the　bake…kettle；　and　disclosed　to　view　a　neatly…baked　pound…cake；　of　which　no　city　confectioner　need　to　have　been　ashamed。　This　being　evidently　the　central　point　of　the　entertainment；　Aunt　Chloe　began　now　to　bustle　about　earnestly　in　the　supper　department。
“Here　you；　Mose　and　Pete！　get　out　de　way；　you　niggers！　Get　away；　Mericky；　honey；—mammy’ll　give　her　baby　some　fin；　by　and　by。　Now；　Mas’r　George；　you　jest　take　off　dem　books；　and　set　down　now　with　my　old　man；　and　I’ll　take　up　de　sausages；　and　have　de　first　griddle　full　of　cakes　on　your　plates　in　less　dan　no　time。”
“They　wanted　me　to　come　to　supper　in　the　house；”　said　George；　“but　I　knew　what　was　what　too　well　for　that；　Aunt　Chloe。”
“So　you　did—so　you　did；　honey；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　heaping　the　smoking　batter…cakes　on　his　plate；　“you　know’d　your　old　aunty’d　keep　the　best　for　you。　O；　let　you　alone　for　dat！　Go　way！”　And；　with　that；　aunty　gave　George　a　nudge　with　her　finger；　designed　to　be　immensely　facetious；　and　turned　again　to　her　griddle　with　great　briskness。
“Now　for　the　cake；”　said　Mas’r　George；　when　the　activity　of　the　griddle　department　had　somewhat　subsided；　and；　with　that；　the　youngster　flourished　a　large　knife　over　the　article　in　question。
“La　bless　you；　Mas’r　George！”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　with　earnestness；　catching　his　arm；　“you　wouldn’t　be　for　cuttin’　it　wid　dat　ar　great　heavy　knife！　Smash　all　down—spile　all　de　pretty　rise　of　it。　Here；　I’ve　got　a　thin　old　knife；　I　keeps　sharp　a　purpose。　Dar　now；　see！　comes　apart　light　as　a　feather！　Now　eat　away—you　won’t　get　anything　to　beat　dat　ar。”
“Tom　Lincon　says；”　said　George；　speaking　with　his　mouth　full；　“that　their　Jinny　is　a　better　cook　than　you。”
“Dem　Lincons　an’t　much　count；　no　way！”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　contemptuously；　“I　mean；　set　along　side　our　folks。　They　’s　’spectable　folks　enough　in　a　kinder　plain　way；　but；　as　to　gettin’　up　anything　in　style；　they　don’t　begin　to　have　a　notion　on　’t。　Set　Mas’r　Lincon；　now；　alongside　Mas’r　Shelby！　Good　Lor！　and　Missis　Lincon；—can　she　kinder　sweep　it　into　a　room　like　my　missis；—so　kinder　splendid；　yer　know！　O；　go　way！　don’t　tell　me　nothin’　of　dem　Lincons！”—and　Aunt　Chloe　tossed　her　head　as　one　who　hoped　she　did　know　something　of　the　world。
“Well；　though；　I’ve　heard　you　say；”　said　George；　“that　Jinny　was　a　pretty　fair　cook。”
“So　I　did；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；—“I　may　say　dat。　Good；　plain；　common　cookin’；　Jinny’ll　do；—make　a　good　pone　o’　bread；—bile　her　taters　far；—her　corn　cakes　isn’t　extra；　not　extra　now；　Jinny’s　corn　cakes　isn’t；　but　then　they’s　far；—but；　Lor；　come　to　de　higher　branches；　and　what　can　she　do？　Why；　she　makes　pies—sartin　she　does；　but　what　kinder　crust？　Can　she　make　your　real　flecky　paste；　as　melts　in　your　mouth；　and　lies　all　up　like　a　puff？　Now；　I　went　over　thar　when　Miss　Mary　was　gwine　to　be　married；　and　Jinny　she　jest　showed　me　de　weddin’　pies。　Jinny　and　I　is　good　friends；　ye　know。　I　never　said　nothin’；　but　go　’long；　Mas’r　George！　Why；　I　shouldn’t　sleep　a　wink　for　a　week；　if　I　had　a　batch　of　pies　like　dem　ar。　Why；　dey　wan’t　no　’count　’t　all。”
“I　suppose　Jinny　thought　they　were　ever　so　nice；”　said　George。
“Thought　so！—didn’t　she？　Thar　she　was；　showing　em；　as　innocent—ye　see；　it’s　jest　here；　Jinny　don’t　know。　Lor；　the　family　an’t　nothing！　She　can’t　be　spected　to　know！　’Ta’nt　no　fault　o’　hem。　Ah；　Mas’r　George；　you　doesn’t　know　half　’your　privileges　in　yer　family　and　bringin’　up！”　Here　Aunt　Chloe　sighed；　and　rolled　up　her　eyes　with　emotion。
“I’m　sure；　Aunt　Chloe；　I　understand　I　my　pie　and　pudding　privileges；”　said　George。　“Ask　Tom　Lincon　if　I　don’t　crow　over　him；　every　time　I　meet　him。”
Aunt　Chloe　sat　back　in　her　chair；　and　indulged　in　a　hearty　guffaw　of　laughter；　at　this　witticism　of　young　Mas’r’s；　laughing　till　the　tears　rolled　down　her　black；　shining　cheeks；　and　varying　the　exercise　with　playfully　slapping　and　poking　Mas’r　Georgey；　and　telling　him　to　go　way；　and　that　he　was　a　case—that　he　was　fit　to　kill　her；　and　that　he　sartin　would　kill　her；　one　of　these　days；　and；　between　each　of　these　sanguinary　predictions；　going　off　into　a　laugh；　each　longer　and　stronger　than　the　other；　till　George　really　began　to　think　that　he　was　a　very　dangerously　witty　fellow；　and　that　it　became　him　to　be　careful　how　he　talked　“as　funny　as　he　could。”
“And　so　ye　telled　Tom；　did　ye？　O；　Lor！　what　young　uns　will　be　up　ter！　Ye　crowed　over　Tom？　O；　Lor！　Mas’r　George；　if　ye　wouldn’t　make　a　hornbug　laugh！”
“Yes；”　said　George；　“I　says　to　him；　‘Tom；　you　ought　to　see　some　of　Aunt　Chloe’s　pies；　they’re　the　right　sort；’　says　I。”
“Pity；　now；　Tom　couldn’t；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　on　whose　benevolent　heart　the　idea　of　Tom’s　benighted　condition　seemed　to　make　a　strong　impression。　“Ye　oughter　just　ask　him　here　to　dinner；　some　o’　these　times；　Mas’r　George；”　she　added；　“it　would　look　quite　pretty　of　ye。　Ye　know；　Mas’r　George；　ye　oughtenter　feel　’bove　nobody；　on　’count　yer　privileges；　’cause　all　our　privileges　is　gi’n　to　us；　we　ought　al’ays　to　’member　that；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　looking　quite　serious。
“Well；　I　mean　to　ask　Tom　here；　some　day　next　week；”　said　George；　“and　you　do　your　prettiest；　Aunt　Chloe；　and　we’ll　make　him　stare。　Won’t　we　make　him　eat　so　he　won’t　get　over　it　for　a　fortnight？”
“Yes；　yes—sartin；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　delighted；
“you’ll　see。　Lor！　to　think　of　some　of　our　dinners！　Yer　mind　dat　ar　great　chicken　pie　I　made　when　we　guv　de　dinner　to　General　Knox？　I　and　Missis；　we　come　pretty　near　quarrelling　about　dat　ar　crust。　What　does　get　into　ladies　sometimes；　I　don’t　know；　but；　sometimes；　when　a　body　has　de　heaviest　kind　o’　’sponsibility　on　’em；　as　ye　may　say；　and　is　all　kinder　‘seris’　and　taken　up；　dey　takes　dat　ar　time　to　be　hangin’　round　and　kinder　interferin’！　Now；　Missis；　she　wanted　me　to　do　dis　way；　and　she　wanted　me　to　do　dat　way；　and；　finally；　I　got　kinder　sarcy；　and；　says　I；　‘Now；　Missis；　do　jist　look　at　dem　beautiful　white　hands　o’　yourn　with　long　fingers；　and　all　a　sparkling　with　rings；　like　my　white　lilies　when　de　dew　’s　on　’em；　and　look　at　my　great　black　stumpin　hands。　Now；　don’t　ye　think　dat　de　Lord　must　have　meant　me　to　make　de　pie…crust；　and　you　to　stay　in　de　parlor？　Dar！　I　was　jist　so　sarcy；　Mas’r　George。”
“And　what　did　mother　say？”　said　George。
“Say？—why；　she　kinder　larfed　in　her　eyes—dem　great　handsome　eyes　o’　hern；　and；　says　she；　‘Well；　Aunt　Chloe；　I　think　you　are　about　in　the　right　on　’t；’　says　she；　and　she　went　off　in　de　parlor。　She　oughter　cracked　me　over　de　head　for　bein’　so　sarcy；　but　dar’s　whar　’t　is—I　can’t　do　nothin’　with　ladies　in　de　kitchen！”
“Well；　you　made　out　well　with　that　dinner；—I　remember　everybody　said　so；”　said　George。
“Didn’t　I？　And　wan’t　I　behind　de　dinin’…room　door　dat　bery　day？　and　didn’t　I　see　de　General　pass　his　plate　three　times　for　some　more　dat　bery　pie？—and；　says　he；　‘You　must　have　an　uncommon　cook；　Mrs。　Shelby。’　Lor！　I　was　fit　to　split　myself。
“And　de　Gineral；　he　knows　what　cookin’　is；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　drawing　herself　up　with　an　air。　“Bery　nice　man；　de　Gineral！　He　comes　of　one　of　de　bery　fustest　families　in　Old　Virginny！　He　knows　what’s　what；　now；　as　well　as　I　do—de　Gineral。　Ye　see；　there’s　pints　in　all　pies；　Mas’r　George；　but　tan’t　everybody　knows　what　they　is；　or　as　orter　be。　But　the　Gineral；　he　knows；　I　knew　by　his　’marks　he　made。　Yes；　he　knows　what　de　pints　is！”
By　this　time；　Master　George　had　arrived　at　that　pass　to　which　even　a　boy　can　come　（under　uncommon　circumstances；　when　he　really　could　not　eat　another　morsel）；　and；　therefore；　he　was　at　leisure　to　notice　the　pile　of　woolly　heads　and　glistening　eyes　which　were　regarding　their　operations　hungrily　from　the　opposite　corner。
“Here；　you　Mose；　Pete；”　he　said；　breaking　off　liberal　bits；　and　throwing　it　at　them；　“you　want　some；　don’t　you？　Come；　Aunt　Chloe；　bake　them　some　cakes。”
And　George　and　Tom　moved　to　a　comfortable　seat　in　the　chimney…corner；　while　Aunte　Chloe；　after　baking　a　goodly　pile　of　cakes；　took　her　baby　on　her　lap；　and　began　alternately　filling　its　mouth　and　her