英语天堂-第40部分

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orious　Union。　The　trader；　therefore；　sat　discontentedly　down；　with　his　little　acomount…book；　and　put　down　the　missing　body　and　soul　under　the　head　of　losses！
“He’s　a　shocking　creature；　isn’t　he；—this　trader？　so　unfeeling！　It’s　dreadful；　really！”
“O；　but　nobody　thinks　anything　of　these　traders！　They　are　universally　despised；—never　received　into　any　decent　society。”
But　who；　sir；　makes　the　trader？　Who　is　most　to　blame？　The　enlightened；　cultivated；　intelligent　man；　who　supports　the　system　of　which　the　trader　is　the　inevitable　result；　or　the　poor　trader　himself？　You　make　the　public　statement　that　calls　for　his　trade；　that　debauches　and　depraves　him；　till　he　feels　no　shame　in　it；　and　in　what　are　you　better　than　he？
Are　you　educated　and　he　ignorant；　you　high　and　he　low；　you　refined　and　he　coarse；　you　talented　and　he　simple？
In　the　day　of　a　future　judgment；　these　very　considerations　may　make　it　more　tolerable　for　him　than　for　you。
In　concluding　these　little　incidents　of　lawful　trade；　we　must　beg　the　world　not　to　think　that　American　legislators　are　entirely　destitute　of　humanity；　as　might；　perhaps；　be　unfairly　inferred　from　the　great　efforts　made　in　our　national　body　to　protect　and　perpetuate　this　species　of　traffic。
Who　does　not　know　how　our　great　men　are　outdoing　themselves；　in　declaiming　against　the　foreign　slave…trade。　There　are　a　perfect　host　of　Clarksons　and　Wilberforces4　risen　up　among　us　on　that　subject；　most　edifying　to　hear　and　behold。　Trading　negroes　from　Africa；　dear　reader；　is　so　horrid！　It　is　not　to　be　thought　of！　But　trading　them　from　Kentucky；—that’s　quite　another　thing！
1　Jer。　31：15。
2　Gen。　9：25。　This　is　what　Noah　says　when　he　wakes　out　of　drunkenness　and　realizes　that　his　youngest　son；　Ham；　father　of　Canaan；　has　seen　him　naked。
3　Dr。　Joel　Parker　of　Philadelphia。　＇Mrs。　Stowe’s　note。＇　Presbyterian　clergyman　（1799…1873）；　a　friend　of　the　Beecher　family。　Mrs。　Stowe　attempted　unsucomessfully　to　have　this　identifying　note　removed　from　the　stereotype…plate　of　the　first　edition。
4　Thomas　Clarkson　（1760…1846）　and　William　Wilberforce　（1759…1833）；　English　philanthropists　and　anti…slavery　agitators　who　helped　to　secure　passage　of　the　Emancipation　Bill　by　Parliament　in　1833。
Chapter　13
The　Quaker　Settlement
A　quiet　scene　now　rises　before　us。　A　large；　roomy；　neatly…painted　kitchen；　its　yellow　floor　glossy　and　smooth；　and　without　a　particle　of　dust；　a　neat；　well…blacked　cooking…stove；　rows　of　shining　tin；　suggestive　of　unmentionable　good　things　to　the　appetite；　glossy　green　wood　chairs；　old　and　firm；　a　small　flag…bottomed　rocking…chair；　with　a　patch…work　cushion　in　it；　neatly　contrived　out　of　small　pieces　of　different　colored　woollen　goods；　and　a　larger　sized　one；　motherly　and　old；　whose　wide　arms　breathed　hospitable　invitation；　seconded　by　the　solicitation　of　its　feather　cushions；—a　real　comfortable；　persuasive　old　chair；　and　worth；　in　the　way　of　honest；　homely　enjoyment；　a　dozen　of　your　plush　or　brochetelle　drawing…room　gentry；　and　in　the　chair；　gently　swaying　back　and　forward；　her　eyes　bent　on　some　fine　sewing；　sat　our　fine　old　friend　Eliza。　Yes；　there　she　is；　paler　and　thinner　than　in　her　Kentucky　home；　with　a　world　of　quiet　sorrow　lying　under　the　shadow　of　her　long　eyelashes；　and　marking　the　outline　of　her　gentle　mouth！　It　was　plain　to　see　how　old　and　firm　the　girlish　heart　was　grown　under　the　discipline　of　heavy　sorrow；　and　when；　anon；　her　large　dark　eye　was　raised　to　follow　the　gambols　of　her　little　Harry；　who　was　sporting；　like　some　tropical　butterfly；　hither　and　thither　over　the　floor；　she　showed　a　depth　of　firmness　and　steady　resolve　that　was　never　there　in　her　earlier　and　happier　days。
By　her　side　sat　a　woman　with　a　bright　tin　pan　in　her　lap；　into　which　she　was　carefully　sorting　some　dried　peaches。　She　might　be　fifty…five　or　sixty；　but　hers　was　one　of　those　faces　that　time　seems　to　touch　only　to　brighten　and　adorn。　The　snowy　fisse　crape　cap；　made　after　the　strait　Quaker　pattern；—the　plain　white　muslin　handkerchief；　lying　in　placid　folds　across　her　bosom；—the　drab　shawl　and　dress；—showed　at　once　the　community　to　which　she　belonged。　Her　face　was　round　and　rosy；　with　a　healthful　downy　softness；　suggestive　of　a　ripe　peach。　Her　hair；　partially　silvered　by　age；　was　parted　smoothly　back　from　a　high　placid　forehead；　on　which　time　had　written　no　inscription；　except　peace　on　earth；　good　will　to　men；　and　beneath　shone　a　large　pair　of　clear；　honest；　loving　brown　eyes；　you　only　needed　to　look　straight　into　them；　to　feel　that　you　saw　to　the　bottom　of　a　heart　as　good　and　true　as　ever　throbbed　in　woman’s　bosom。　So　much　has　been　said　and　sung　of　beautiful　young　girls；　why　don’t　somebody　wake　up　to　the　beauty　of　old　women？　If　any　want　to　get　up　an　inspiration　under　this　head；　we　refer　them　to　our　good　friend　Rachel　Halliday；　just　as　she　sits　there　in　her　little　rocking…chair。　It　had　a　turn　for　quacking　and　squeaking；—that　chair　had；—either　from　having　taken　cold　in　early　life；　or　from　some　asthmatic　affection；　or　perhaps　from　nervous　derangement；　but；　as　she　gently　swung　backward　and　forward；　the　chair　kept　up　a　kind　of　subdued　“creechy　crawchy；”　that　would　have　been　intolerable　in　any　other　chair。　But　old　Simeon　Halliday　often　declared　it　was　as　good　as　any　music　to　him；　and　the　children　all　avowed　that　they　wouldn’t　miss　of　hearing　mother’s　chair　for　anything　in　the　world。　For　why？　for　twenty　years　or　more；　nothing　but　loving　words；　and　gentle　moralities；　and　motherly　loving　kindness；　had　come　from　that　chair；—head…aches　and　heart…aches　innumerable　had　been　cured　there；—difficulties　spiritual　and　temporal　solved　there；—all　by　one　good；　loving　woman；　God　bless　her！
“And　so　thee　still　thinks　of　going　to　Canada；　Eliza？”　she　said；　as　she　was　quietly　looking　over　her　peaches。
“Yes；　ma’am；”　said　Eliza；　firmly。　“I　must　go　onward。　I　dare　not　stop。”
“And　what’ll　thee　do；　when　thee　gets　there？　Thee　must　think　about　that；　my　daughter。”
“My　daughter”　came　naturally　from　the　lips　of　Rachel　Halliday；　for　hers　was　just　the　face　and　form　that　made　“mother”　seem　the　most　natural　word　in　the　world。
Eliza’s　hands　trembled；　and　some　tears　fell　on　her　fine　work；　but　she　answered；　firmly；
“I　shall　do—anything　I　can　find。　I　hope　I　can　find　something。”
“Thee　knows　thee　can　stay　here；　as　long　as　thee　pleases；”　said　Rachel。
“O；　thank　you；”　said　Eliza；　“but”—she　pointed　to　Harry—“I　can’t　sleep　nights；　I　can’t　rest。　　night　I　dreamed　I　saw　that　man　coming　into　the　yard；”　she　said；　shuddering。
“Poor　child！”　said　Rachel；　wiping　her　eyes；　“but　thee　mustn’t　feel　so。　The　Lord　hath　ordered　it　so　that　never　hath　a　fugitive　been　stolen　from　our　village。　I　trust　thine　will　not　be　the　first。”
The　door　here　opened；　and　a　little　short；　round；　pin…cushiony　woman　stood　at　the　door；　with　a　cheery；　blooming　face；　like　a　ripe　apple。　She　was　dressed；　like　Rachel；　in　sober　gray；　with　the　muslin　folded　neatly　across　her　round；　plump　little　chest。
“Ruth　Stedman；”　said　Rachel；　coming　joyfully　forward；　“how　is　thee；　Ruth？　she　said；　heartily　taking　both　her　hands。
“Nicely；”　said　Ruth；　taking　off　her　little　drab　bonnet；　and　dusting　it　with　her　handkerchief；　displaying；　as　she　did　so；　a　round　little　head；　on　which　the　Quaker　cap　sat　with　a　sort　of　jaunty　air；　despite　all　the　stroking　and　patting　of　the　small　fat　hands；　which　were　busily　applied　to　arranging　it。　Certain　stray　locks　of　decidedly　curly　hair；　too；　had　escaped　here　and　there；　and　had　to　be　coaxed　and　cajoled　into　their　place　again；　and　then　the　new　comer；　who　might　have　been　five…and…twenty；　turned　from　the　small　looking…glass；　before　which　she　had　been　making　these　arrangements；　and　looked　well　pleased；—as　most　people　who　looked　at　her　might　have　been；—for　she　was　decidedly　a　wholesome；　whole…hearted；　chirruping　little　woman；　as　ever　gladdened　man’s　heart　withal。
“Ruth；　this　friend　is　Eliza　Harris；　and　this　is　the　little　boy　I　told　thee　of。”
“I　am　glad　to　see　thee；　Eliza；—very；”　said　Ruth；　shaking　hands；　as　if　Eliza　were　an　old　friend　she　had　long　been　expecting；　“and　this　is　thy　dear　boy；—I　brought　a　cake　for　him；”　she　said；　holding　out　a　little　heart　to　the　boy；　who　came　up；　gazing　through　his　curls；　and　acomepted　it　shyly。
“Where’s　thy　baby；　Ruth？”　said　Rachel。
“O；　he’s　coming；　but　thy　Mary　caught　him　as　I　came　in；　and　ran　off　with　him　to　the　barn；　to　show　him　to　the　children。”
At　this　moment；　the　door　opened；　and　Mary；　an　honest；　rosy…looking　girl；　with　large　brown　eyes；　like　her　mother’s；　came　in　with　the　baby。
“Ah！　ha！”　said　Rachel；　coming　up；　and　taking　the　great；　white；　fat　fellow　in　her　arms；　“how　good　he　looks；　and　how　he　does　grow！”
“To　be　sure；　he　does；”　said　little　bustling　Ruth；　as　she　took　the　child；　and　began　taking　off　a　little　blue　silk　hood；　and　various　layers　and　wrappers　of　outer　garments；　and　having　given　a　twitch　here；　and　a　pull　there；　and　variously　adjusted　and　arranged　him；　and　kissed　him　heartily；　she　set　him　on　the　floor　to　collect　his　thoughts。　Baby　seemed　quite　used　to　this　mode　of　proceeding；　for　he　put　his　thumb　in　his　mouth　（as　if　it　were　quite　a　thing　of　course）；　and　seemed　soon　absorbed　in　his　own　reflections；　while　the　mother　seated　herself；　and　taking　out　a　long　stocking　of　mixed　blue　and　white　yarn；　began　to　knit　with　briskness。
“Mary；　thee’d　better　fill　the　kettle；　hadn’t　thee？”　gently　suggested　the　mother。
Mary　took　the　kettle　to　the　well；　and　soon　reappearing；　placed　it　over　the　stove；　where　it　was　soon　purring　and　steaming；　a　sort　of　censer　of　hospitality　and　good　cheer。　The　peaches；　moreover；　in　obedience　to　a　few　gentle　whispers　from　Rachel；　were　soon　deposited；　by　the　same　hand；　in　a　stew…pan　over　the　fire。
Rachel　now　took　down　a　snowy　moulding…board；　and；　tying　on　an　apron；　proceeded　quietly　to　making　up　some　biscuits；　first　saying　to　Mary；—“Mary；　hadn’t　thee　better　tell　John　to　get　a　chicken　ready？”　and　Mary　disappeared　acomordingly。
“And　how　is　Abigail　Peters？”　said　Rachel；　as　she　went　on　with　her　biscuits。
“O；　she’s　better；”　said　Ruth；　“I　was　in；　this　morning；　made　the　bed；　tidied　up　the　house。　Leah　Hills　went　in；　this　afternoon；　and　baked　bread　and　pies　enough　to　last　some　days；　and　I　engaged　to　go　back　to　get　her　up；　this　evening。”
“I　will　go　in　tomorrow；　and　do　any　cleaning　there　may　be；　and　look　over　the　mending；”　said　Rachel。
“Ah！　that　is　well；”　said　Ruth。　“I’ve　heard；”　she　added；　“that　Hannah　Stanwood　is　sick。　John　was　up　there；　last　night；—I　must　go　there　tomorrow。”
“John　can　come　in　here　to　his　meals；　if　thee　needs　to　stay　all　day；”　suggested　Rachel。
“Thank　thee；　Rachel；　will　see；　tomorrow；　but；　here　comes　Simeon。”
Simeon　Halliday；　a　tall；　straight；　muscular　man；　in　drab　coat　and　pantaloons；　and　broad…brimmed　hat；　now　entered。
“How　is　thee；　Ruth？”　he　said；　warmly；　as　he　spread　his　broad　open　hand　for　her　little　fat　palm；　“and　how　is　John？”
“O！　John　is　well；　and　all　the　rest　of　our　folks；”　said　Ruth；　cheerily。
“Any　news；　father？”　said　Rachel；　as　she　was　putting　her　biscuits　into　the　oven。
“Peter　Stebbins　told　me　that　they　should　be　along　tonight；　with　friends；”　said　Simeon；　significantly；　as　he　was　washing　his　hands　at　a　neat　sink；　in　a　little　back　porch。
“Indeed！”　said　Rachel；　looking　thoughtfully；　and　glancing　at　Eliza。
“Did　thee　say　thy　name　was　Harris？”　said　Simeon　to　Eliza；　as　he　reentered。
Rachel　glanced　quickly　at　her　husband；　as　Eliza　tremulously　answered　“yes；”　her　fears；　ever　uppermost；　suggesting　that　possibly　there　might　be　advertisements　out　for　her。
“Mother！”　said　Simeon；　standing　in　the　porch；　and　calling　Rachel　out。
“What　does　thee　want；　father？”　said　Rachel；　rubbing　her　floury　hands；　as　she　went　into　the　porch。
“This　child’s　husband　is　in　the　settlement；　and　will　be　here　tonight；”　said　Simeon。
“Now；　thee　doesn’t　say　that；　father？”　said　Rachel；　all　her　face　radiant　with　joy。
“It’s　really　true。　Peter　was　down　yesterday；　with　the　wagon；　to　the　other　stand；　and　there　he　found　an　old　woman　and　two　men；　and　one　said　his　name　was　George　Harris；　and　from　what　he　told　of　his　history；　I　am　certain　who　he　is。　He　is　a　bright；　likely　fellow；　too。”
“Shall　we　tell　her　now？”　said　Simeon。
“Let’s　tell　Ruth；”　said　Rachel。　“Here；　Ruth；—come　here。”
Ruth　laid　down　her　knitting…work；　and　was　in　the　back　porch　in　a　moment。
“Ruth；　what　does　thee　think？”　said　Rachel。　“Father　says　Eliza’s　husband　is　in　the　last　company；　and　will　be　here　tonight。”
A　burst　of　joy　from　the　little　Quakeress　interrupted　the　speech。　She　gave　such　a　bound　from　the　floor；　as　she　clapped　her　little　hands；　that　two　stray　curls　fell　from　under　her　Quaker　cap；　and　lay　brightly　on　her　white　neckerchief。
“Hush　thee；　dear！”　said　Rachel；　gently；　“hush；　Ruth！　Tell　us；　shall　we　tell　her　now？”
“Now！　to　be　sure；—this　very　minute。　Why；　now；　suppose　’t　was　my　John；　how　should　I　feel？　Do　tell　her；　right　off。”
“Thee　uses　thyself　only　to　learn　how　to　love　thy　neighbor；　Ruth；”　said　Simeon；　looking；　with　a　beaming　face；　on　Ruth。
“To　be　sure。　Isn’t　it　what　we　are　made　for？　If　I　didn’t　love　John　and　the　baby；　I　should　not　know　how　to　feel　for　her。　Come；　now　do　tell　her；—do！”　and　she　laid　her　hands　persuasively　on　Rachel’s　arm。　“Take　her　into　thy　bed…room；　there；　and　let　me　fry　the　chicken　while　thee　does　it。”
Rachel　came　out　into　the　kitchen；　where　Eliza　was　sewing；　and　opening　the　door　of　a　small　bed…room；　said；　gently；　“Come　in　here　with　me；　my　daughter；　I　have　news　to　tell　thee。”
The　blood　flushed　in　Eliza’s　pale　face；　she　rose；　trembling　with　nervous　anxiety；　and　looked　towards　her　boy。
“No；　no；”　said　little　Ruth；　darting　up；　and　seizing　her　hands。　“Never　thee　fear；　it’s　good　news；　Eliza；—go　in；　go　in！”　And　she　gently　pushed　her　to　the　door　which　closed　after　her；　and　then；　turning　round；　she　caught　little　Harry　in　her　arms；　and　began　kissing　him。
“Thee’ll　see　thy　father；　little　one。　Does　thee　know　it？　Thy　father　is　coming；”　she　said；　over　and　over　again；　as　the　boy　looked　wonderingly　at　her。
Meanwhile；　within　the　door；　another　scene　was　going　on。　Rachel　Halliday　drew　Eliza　toward　her；　and　said；　“The　Lord　hath　had　mercy　on　thee；　daughter；　thy　husband　hath　escaped　from　the　house　of　bondage。”
The　blood　flushed　to　Eliza’s　cheek　in　a　sudden　glow；　and　went　back　to　her　heart　with　as　sudden　a　rush。　She　sat　down；　pale　and　faint。
“Have　courage；　child；”　said　Rachel；　laying　her　hand　on　her　head。　“He　is　among　friends；　who　will　bring　him　here　tonight。”
“Tonight！”　Eliza　repeated；　“tonight！”　The　words　lost　all　meaning　to　her；　her　head　was　dreamy　and　confused；　all　was　mist　for　a　moment。
When　she　awoke；　she　found　herself　snugly　tucked　up　on　the　bed；　with　a　blanket　over　her；　and　little　Ruth　rubbing　her　hands　with　camphor。　She　opened　her　eyes　in　a　state　of　dreamy；　delicious　languor；　such　as　one　who　has　long　been　bearing　a　heavy　load；　and　now　feels　it　gone；　and　would　rest。　The　tension　of　the　nerves；　which　had　never　ceased　a　moment　since　the　first　hour　of　her　flight；　had　given　way；　and　a　strange　feeling　of　security　and　rest　came　over　her；　and　as　she　lay；　with　her　large；　dark　eyes　open；　she　followed；　as　in　a　quiet　dream；　the　motions　of　those　about　her。　She　saw　the　door　open　into　the　other　room；　saw　the　supper…table；　with　its　snowy　cloth；　heard　the　dreamy　murmur　of　the　singing　tea…kettle；　saw　Ruth　tripping　back