英语天堂-第55部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


“Well；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　“how　came　you　to　give　up　your　plantation　life？”
“Well；　we　jogged　on　together　some　time；　till　Alfred　saw　plainly　that　I　was　no　planter。　He　thought　it　absurd；　after　he　had　reformed；　and　altered；　and　improved　everywhere；　to　suit　my　notions；　that　I　still　remained　unsatisfied。　The　fact　was；　it　was；　after　all；　the　THING　that　I　hated—the　using　these　men　and　women；　the　perpetuation　of　all　this　ignorance；　brutality　and　vice；—just　to　make　money　for　me！
“Besides；　I　was　always　interfering　in　the　details。　Being　myself　one　of　the　laziest　of　mortals；　I　had　altogether　too　much　fellow…feeling　for　the　lazy；　and　when　poor；　shiftless　dogs　put　stones　at　the　bottom　of　their　cotton…baskets　to　make　them　weigh　heavier；　or　filled　their　sacks　with　dirt；　with　cotton　at　the　top；　it　seemed　so　exactly　like　what　I　should　do　if　I　were　they；　I　couldn’t　and　wouldn’t　have　them　flogged　for　it。　Well；　of　course；　there　was　an　end　of　plantation　discipline；　and　Alf　and　I　came　to　about　the　same　point　that　I　and　my　respected　father　did；　years　before。　So　he　told　me　that　I　was　a　womanish　sentimentalist；　and　would　never　do　for　business　life；　and　advised　me　to　take　the　bank…stock　and　the　New　Orleans　family　mansion；　and　go　to　writing　poetry；　and　let　him　manage　the　plantation。　So　we　parted；　and　I　came　here。”
“But　why　didn’t　you　free　your　slaves？”
“Well；　I　wasn’t　up　to　that。　To　hold　them　as　tools　for　money…making；　I　could　not；—have　them　to　help　spend　money；　you　know；　didn’t　look　quite　so　ugly　to　me。　Some　of　them　were　old　house…servants；　to　whom　I　was　much　attached；　and　the　younger　ones　were　children　to　the　old。　All　were　well　satisfied　to　be　as　they　were。”　He　paused；　and　walked　reflectively　up　and　down　the　room。
“There　was；”　said　St。　Clare；　“a　time　in　my　life　when　I　had　plans　and　hopes　of　doing　something　in　this　world；　more　than　to　float　and　drift。　I　had　vague；　indistinct　yearnings　to　be　a　sort　of　emancipator；—to　free　my　native　land　from　this　spot　and　stain。　All　young　men　have　had　such　fever…fits；　I　suppose；　some　time；—but　then—”
“Why　didn’t　you？”　said　Miss　Ophelia；—“you　ought　not　to　put　your　hand　to　the　plough；　and　look　back。”
“O；　well；　things　didn’t　go　with　me　as　I　expected；　and　I　got　the　despair　of　living　that　Solomon　did。　I　suppose　it　was　a　necessary　incident　to　wisdom　in　us　both；　but；　some　how　or　other；　instead　of　being　actor　and　regenerator　in　society；　I　became　a　piece　of　driftwood；　and　have　been　floating　and　eddying　about；　ever　since。　Alfred　scolds　me；　every　time　we　meet；　and　he　has　the　better　of　me；　I　grant；—for　he　really　does　something；　his　life　is　a　logical　result　of　his　opinions　and　mine　is　a　contemptible　non　sequitur。”
“My　dear　cousin；　can　you　be　satisfied　with　such　a　way　of　spending　your　probation？”
“Satisfied！　Was　I　not　just　telling　you　I　despised　it？　But；　then；　to　come　back　to　this　point；—we　were　on　this　liberation　business。　I　don’t　think　my　feelings　about　slavery　are　peculiar。　I　find　many　men　who；　in　their　hearts；　think　of　it　just　as　I　do。　The　land　groans　under　it；　and；　bad　as　it　is　for　the　slave；　it　is　worse；　if　anything；　for　the　master。　It　takes　no　spectacles　to　see　that　a　great　class　of　vicious；　improvident；　degraded　people；　among　us；　are　an　evil　to　us；　as　well　as　to　themselves。　The　capitalist　and　aristocrat　of　England　cannot　feel　that　as　we　do；　because　they　do　not　mingle　with　the　class　they　degrade　as　we　do。　They　are　in　our　homes；　they　are　the　associates　of　our　children；　and　they　form　their　minds　faster　than　we　can；　for　they　are　a　race　that　children　always　will　cling　to　and　assimilate　with。　If　Eva；　now；　was　not　more　angel　than　ordinary；　she　would　be　ruined。　We　might　as　well　allow　the　small…pox　to　run　among　them；　and　think　our　children　would　not　take　it；　as　to　let　them　be　uninstructed　and　vicious；　and　think　our　children　will　not　be　affected　by　that。　Yet　our　laws　positively　and　utterly　forbid　any　efficient　general　educational　system；　and　they　do　it　wisely；　too；　for；　just　begin　and　thoroughly　educate　one　generation；　and　the　whole　thing　would　be　blown　sky　high。　If　we　did　not　give　them　liberty；　they　would　take　it。”
“And　what　do　you　think　will　be　the　end　of　this？”　said　Miss　Ophelia。
“I　don’t　know。　One　thing　is　certain；—that　there　is　a　mustering　among　the　masses；　the　world　over；　and　there　is　a　dies　irae　coming　on；　sooner　or　later。　The　same　thing　is　working　in　Europe；　in　England；　and　in　this　country。　My　mother　used　to　tell　me　of　a　millennium　that　was　coming；　when　Christ　should　reign；　and　all　men　should　be　free　and　happy。　And　she　taught　me；　when　I　was　a　boy；　to　pray；　‘thy　kingdom　come。’　Sometimes　I　think　all　this　sighing；　and　groaning；　and　stirring　among　the　dry　bones　foretells　what　she　used　to　tell　me　was　coming。　But　who　may　abide　the　day　of　His　appearing？”
“Augustine；　sometimes　I　think　you　are　not　far　from　the　kingdom；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　laying　down　her　knitting；　and　looking　anxiously　at　her　cousin。
“Thank　you　for　your　good　opinion；　but　it’s　up　and　down　with　me；—up　to　heaven’s　gate　in　theory；　down　in　earth’s　dust　in　practice。　But　there’s　the　teabell；—do　let’s　go；—and　don’t　say；　now；　I　haven’t　had　one　downright　serious　talk；　for　once　in　my　life。”
At　table；　Marie　alluded　to　the　incident　of　Prue。　“I　suppose　you’ll　think；　cousin；”　she　said；　“that　we　are　all　barbarians。”
“I　think　that’s　a　barbarous　thing；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　“but　I　don’t　think　you　are　all　barbarians。”
“Well；　now；”　said　Marie；　“I　know　it’s　impossible　to　get　along　with　some　of　these　creatures。　They　are　so　bad　they　ought　not　to　live。　I　don’t　feel　a　particle　of　sympathy　for　such　cases。　If　they’d　only　behave　themselves；　it　would　not　happen。”
“But；　mamma；”　said　Eva；　“the　poor　creature　was　unhappy；　that’s　what　made　her　drink。”
“O；　fiddlestick！　as　if　that　were　any　excuse！　I’m　unhappy；　very　often。　I　presume；”　she　said；　pensively；　“that　I’ve　had　greater　trials　than　ever　she　had。　It’s　just　because　they　are　so　bad。　There’s　some　of　them　that　you　cannot　break　in　by　any　kind　of　severity。　I　remember　father　had　a　man　that　was　so　lazy　he　would　run　away　just　to　get　rid　of　work；　and　lie　round　in　the　swamps；　stealing　and　doing　all　sorts　of　horrid　things。　That　man　was　caught　and　whipped；　time　and　again；　and　it　never　did　him　any　good；　and　the　last　time　he　crawled　off；　though　he　couldn’t　but　just　go；　and　died　in　the　swamp。　There　was　no　sort　of　reason　for　it；　for　father’s　hands　were　always　treated　kindly。”
“I　broke　a　fellow　in；　once；”　said　St。　Clare；　“that　all　the　overseers　and　masters　had　tried　their　hands　on　in　vain。”
“You！”　said　Marie；　“well；　I’d　be　glad　to　know　when　you　ever　did　anything　of　the　sort。”
“Well；　he　was　a　powerful；　gigantic　fellow；—a　native…born　African；　and　he　appeared　to　have　the　rude　instinct　of　freedom　in　him　to　an　uncommon　degree。　He　was　a　regular　African　lion。　They　called　him　Scipio。　Nobody　could　do　anything　with　him；　and　he　was　sold　round　from　overseer　to　overseer；　till　at　last　Alfred　bought　him；　because　he　thought　he　could　manage　him。　Well；　one　day　he　knocked　down　the　overseer；　and　was　fairly　off　into　the　swamps。　I　was　on　a　visit　to　Alf’s　plantation；　for　it　was　after　we　had　dissolved　partnership。　Alfred　was　greatly　exasperated；　but　I　told　him　that　it　was　his　own　fault；　and　laid　him　any　wager　that　I　could　break　the　man；　and　finally　it　was　agreed　that；　if　I　caught　him；　I　should　have　him　to　experiment　on。　So　they　mustered　out　a　party　of　some　six　or　seven；　with　guns　and　dogs；　for　the　hunt。　People；　you　know；　can　get　up　as　much　enthusiasm　in　hunting　a　man　as　a　deer；　if　it　is　only　customary；　in　fact；　I　got　a　little　excited　myself；　though　I　had　only　put　in　as　a　sort　of　mediator；　in　case　he　was　caught。
“Well；　the　dogs　bayed　and　howled；　and　we　rode　and　scampered；　and　finally　we　started　him。　He　ran　and　bounded　like　a　buck；　and　kept　us　well　in　the　rear　for　some　time；　but　at　last　he　got　caught　in　an　impenetrable　thicket　of　cane；　then　he　turned　to　bay；　and　I　tell　you　he　fought　the　dogs　right　gallantly。　He　dashed　them　to　right　and　left；　and　actually　killed　three　of　them　with　only　his　naked　fists；　when　a　shot　from　a　gun　brought　him　down；　and　he　fell；　wounded　and　bleeding；　almost　at　my　feet。　The　poor　fellow　looked　up　at　me　with　manhood　and　despair　both　in　his　eye。　I　kept　back　the　dogs　and　the　party；　as　they　came　pressing　up；　and　claimed　him　as　my　prisoner。　It　was　all　I　could　do　to　keep　them　from　shooting　him；　in　the　flush　of　sucomess；　but　I　persisted　in　my　bargain；　and　Alfred　sold　him　to　me。　Well；　I　took　him　in　hand；　and　in　one　fortnight　I　had　him　tamed　down　as　submissive　and　tractable　as　heart　could　desire。”
“What　in　the　world　did　you　do　to　him？”　said　Marie。
“Well；　it　was　quite　a　simple　process。　I　took　him　to　my　own　room；　had　a　good　bed　made　for　him；　dressed　his　wounds；　and　tended　him　myself；　until　he　got　fairly　on　his　feet　again。　And；　in　process　of　time；　I　had　free　papers　made　out　for　him；　and　told　him　he　might　go　where　he　liked。”
“And　did　he　go？”　said　Miss　Ophelia。
“No。　The　foolish　fellow　tore　the　paper　in　two；　and　absolutely　refused　to　leave　me。　I　never　had　a　braver；　better　fellow；—trusty　and　true　as　steel。　He　embraced　Christianity　afterwards；　and　became　as　gentle　as　a　child。　He　used　to　oversee　my　place　on　the　lake；　and　did　it　capitally；　too。　I　lost　him　the　first　cholera　season。　In　fact；　he　laid　down　his　life　for　me。　For　I　was　sick；　almost　to　death；　and　when；　through　the　panic；　everybody　else　fled；　Scipio　worked　for　me　like　a　giant；　and　actually　brought　me　back　into　life　again。　But；　poor　fellow！　he　was　taken；　right　after；　and　there　was　no　saving　him。　I　never　felt　anybody’s　loss　more。”
Eva　had　come　gradually　nearer　and　nearer　to　her　father；　as　he　told　the　story；—her　small　lips　apart；　her　eyes　wide　and　earnest　with　absorbing　interest。
As　he　finished；　she　suddenly　threw　her　arms　around　his　neck；　burst　into　tears；　and　sobbed　convulsively。
“Eva；　dear　child！　what　is　the　matter？”　said　St。　Clare；　as　the　child’s　small　frame　trembled　and　shook　with　the　violence　of　her　feelings。　“This　child；”　he　added；　“ought　not　to　hear　any　of　this　kind　of　thing；—she’s　nervous。”
“No；　papa；　I’m　not　nervous；”　said　Eva；　controlling　herself；　suddenly；　with　a　strength　of　resolution　singular　in　such　a　child。　“I’m　not　nervous；　but　these　things　sink　into　my　heart。”
“What　do　you　mean；　Eva？”
“I　can’t　tell　you；　papa；　I　think　a　great　many　thoughts。　Perhaps　some　day　I　shall　tell　you。”
“Well；　think　away；　dear；—only　don’t　cry　and　worry　your　papa；”　said　St。　Clare；　“Look　here；—see　what　a　beautiful　peach　I　have　got　for　you。”
Eva　took　it　and　smiled；　though　there　was　still　a　nervous　twiching　about　the　corners　of　her　mouth。
“Come；　look　at　the　gold…fish；”　said　St。　Clare；　taking　her　hand　and　stepping　on　to　the　verandah。　A　few　moments；　and　merry　laughs　were　heard　through　the　silken　curtains；　as　Eva　and　St。　Clare　were　pelting　each　other　with　roses；　and　chasing　each　other　among　the　alleys　of　the　court。
There　is　danger　that　our　humble　friend　Tom　be　neglected　amid　the　adventures　of　the　higher　born；　but；　if　our　readers　will　acomompany　us　up　to　a　little　loft　over　the　stable；　they　may；　perhaps；　learn　a　little　of　his　affairs。　It　was　a　decent　room；　containing　a　bed；　a　chair；　and　a　small；　rough　stand；　where　lay　Tom’s　Bible　and　hymn…book；　and　where　he　sits；　at　present；　with　his　slate　before　him；　intent　on　something　that　seems　to　cost　him　a　great　deal　of　anxious　thought。
The　fact　was；　that　Tom’s　home…yearnings　had　become　so　strong　that　he　had　begged　a　sheet　of　writing…paper　of　Eva；　and；　mustering　up　all　his　small　stock　of　literary　attainment　acquired　by　Mas’r　George’s　instructions；　he　conceived　the　bold　idea　of　writing　a　letter；　and　he　was　busy　now；　on　his　slate；　getting　out　his　first　draft。　Tom　was　in　a　good　deal　of　trouble；　for　the　forms　of　some　of　the　letters　he　had　forgotten　entirely；　and　of　what　he　did　remember；　he　did　not　know　exactly　which　to　use。　And　while　he　was　working；　and　breathing　very　hard；　in　his　earnestness；　Eva　alighted；　like　a　bird；　on　the　round　of　his　chair　behind　him；　and　peeped　over　his　shoulder。
“O；　Uncle　Tom！　what　funny　things　you　are　making；　there！”
“I’m　trying　to　write　to　my　poor　old　woman；　Miss　Eva；　and　my　little　chil’en；”　said　Tom；　drawing　the　back　of　his　hand　over　his　eyes；　“but；　some　how；　I’m　feard　I　shan’t　make　it　out。”
“I　wish　I　could　help　you；　Tom！　I’ve　learnt　to　write　some。　　year　I　could　make　all　the　letters；　but　I’m　afraid　I’ve　forgotten。”
So　Eva　put　her　golden　head　close　to　his；　and　the　two　commenced　a　grave　and　anxious　discussion；　each　one　equally　earnest；　and　about　equally　ignorant；　and；　with　a　deal　of　consulting　and　advising　over　every　word；　the　composition　began；　as　they　both　felt　very　sanguine；　to　look　quite　like　writing。
“Yes；　Uncle　Tom；　it　really　begins　to　look　beautiful；”　said　Eva；　gazing　delightedly　on　it。　“How　pleased　your　wife’ll　be；　and　the　poor　little　children！　O；　it’s　a　shame　you　ever　had　to　go　away　from　them！　I　mean　to　ask　papa　to　let　you　go　back；　some　time。”
“Missis　said　that　she　would　send　down　money　for　me；　as　soon　as　they　could　get　it　together；”　said　Tom。　“I’m　’spectin；　she　will。　Young　Mas’r　George；　he　said　he’d　come　for　me；　and　he　gave　me　this　yer　dollar　as　a　sign；”　and　Tom　drew　from　under　his　clothes　the　precious　dollar。
“O；　he’ll　certainly　come；　then！”　said　Eva。　“I’m　so　glad！”
“And　I　wanted　to　send　a　letter；　you　know；　to　let　’em　know　whar　I　was；　and　tell　poor　Chloe　that　I　was　well　off；—cause　she　felt　so　drefful；　poor　soul！”
“I　say　Tom！”　said　St。　Clare’s　voice；　coming　in　the　door　at　this　moment。
Tom　and　Eva　both　started。
“What’s　here？”　said　St。　Clare；　coming　up　and　looking　at　the　slate。
“O；　it’s　Tom’s　letter。　I’m　helping　him　to　write　it；”　said　Eva；　“isn’t　it　nice？”
“I　wouldn’t　discourage　either　of　you；”　said　St。　Clare；　“but　I　rather　think；　Tom；　you’d　better　get　me　to　write　your　letter　for　you。　I’ll　do　it；　when　I　come　home　from　my　ride。”
“It’s　very　important　he　should　write；”　said　Eva；　“because　his　mistress　is　going　to　send　down　money　to　redeem　him；　you　know；　papa；　he　told　me　they　told　him　so。”
St。　Clare　thought；　in　his　heart；　that　this　was　probably　only　one　of　those　things　which　good…natured　owners　say　to　their　servants；　to　alleviate　their　horror　of　being　sold；　without　any　intention　of　fulfilling　the　expectation　thus　excited。　But　he　did　not　make　any　audible　comment　upon　it；—only　ordered　Tom　to　get　the　horses　out　for　a　ride。
Tom’s　letter　was　written　in　due　form　for　him　that　evening；　and　safely　lodged　in　the　post…office。
Miss　Ophelia　still　persevered　in　her　labors　in　the　housekeeping　line。　It　was　universally　agreed；　among　all　the　household；　from　Dinah　down　to　the　youngest　urchin；　that　Miss　Ophelia　was　decidedly　“curis；”—a　term　by　which　a　southern　servant　implies　that　his　or　her　betters　don’t　exactly　suit　them。
The　higher　circle　in　the　family—to　wit；　Adolph；　Jane　and　Rosa—agreed　that　she　was　no　lady；　ladies　never　keep　working　about　as　she　did；—that　she　had　no　air　at　all；　and　they　were　surprised　that　she　should　be　any　relation　of　the　St。　Clares。　Even　Marie　declared　that　it　was　absolutely　fatiguing　to　see　Cousin　Ophelia　always　so　busy。　And；　in　fact；　Miss　Ophelia’s　industry　was　so　incessant　as　to　lay　some　foundation　for　the　complaint。　She　sewed　and　stitched　away；　from　daylight　till　dark；　with　the　energy　of　one　who　is　pressed　on　by　some　immediate　urgency；　and