英语天堂-第50部分

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f　fairly　extinguished；—child　cries；　and　Cudjoe　on　the　outside　delivers　animated　addresses　to　the　horses；　who　are　kicking；　and　floundering；　and　straining　under　repeated　cracks　of　the　whip。　Carriage　springs　up；　with　another　bounce；—down　go　the　hind　wheels；—senator；　woman；　and　child；　fly　over　on　to　the　back　seat；　his　elbows　encountering　her　bonnet；　and　both　her　feet　being　jammed　into　his　hat；　which　flies　off　in　the　concussion。　After　a　few　moments　the　“slough”　is　passed；　and　the　horses　stop；　panting；—the　senator　finds　his　hat；　the　woman　straightens　her　bonnet　and　hushes　her　child；　and　they　brace　themselves　for　what　is　yet　to　come。
For　a　while　only　the　continuous　bump！　bump！　intermingled；　just　by　way　of　variety；　with　divers　side　plunges　and　compound　shakes；　and　they　begin　to　flatter　themselves　that　they　are　not　so　badly　off；　after　all。　At　last；　with　a　square　plunge；　which　puts　all　on　to　their　feet　and　then　down　into　their　seats　with　incredible　quickness；　the　carriage　stops；—and；　after　much　outside　commotion；　Cudjoe　appears　at　the　door。
“Please；　sir；　it’s　powerful　bad　spot；　this’　yer。　I　don’t　know　how　we’s　to　get　clar　out。　I’m　a　thinkin’　we’ll　have　to　be　a　gettin’　rails。”
The　senator　despairingly　steps　out；　picking　gingerly　for　some　firm　foothold；　down　goes　one　foot　an　immeasurable　depth；—he　tries　to　pull　it　up；　loses　his　balance；　and　tumbles　over　into　the　mud；　and　is　fished　out；　in　a　very　despairing　condition；　by　Cudjoe。
But　we　forbear；　out　of　sympathy　to　our　readers’　bones。　Western　travellers；　who　have　beguiled　the　midnight　hour　in　the　interesting　process　of　pulling　down　rail　fences；　to　pry　their　carriages　out　of　mud　holes；　will　have　a　respectful　and　mournful　sympathy　with　our　unfortunate　hero。　We　beg　them　to　drop　a　silent　tear；　and　pass　on。
It　was　full　late　in　the　night　when　the　carriage　emerged；　dripping　and　bespattered；　out　of　the　creek；　and　stood　at　the　door　of　a　large　farmhouse。
It　took　no　inconsiderable　perseverance　to　arouse　the　inmates；　but　at　last　the　respectable　proprietor　appeared；　and　undid　the　door。　He　was　a　great；　tall；　bristling　Orson　of　a　fellow；　full　six　feet　and　some　inches　in　his　stockings；　and　arrayed　in　a　red　flannel　hunting…shirt。　A　very　heavy　mat　of　sandy　hair；　in　a　decidedly　tousled　condition；　and　a　beard　of　some　days’　growth；　gave　the　worthy　man　an　appearance；　to　say　the　least；　not　particularly　prepossessing。　He　stood　for　a　few　minutes　holding　the　candle　aloft；　and　blinking　on　our　travellers　with　a　dismal　and　mystified　expression　that　was　truly　ludicrous。　It　cost　some　effort　of　our　senator　to　induce　him　to　comprehend　the　case　fully；　and　while　he　is　doing　his　best　at　that；　we　shall　give　him　a　little　introduction　to　our　readers。
Honest　old　John　Van　Trompe　was　once　quite　a　considerable　land…owner　and　slave…owner　in　the　State　of　Kentucky。　Having　“nothing　of　the　bear　about　him　but　the　skin；”　and　being　gifted　by　nature　with　a　great；　honest；　just　heart；　quite　equal　to　his　gigantic　frame；　he　had　been　for　some　years　witnessing　with　repressed　uneasiness　the　workings　of　a　system　equally　bad　for　oppressor　and　oppressed。　At　last；　one　day；　John’s　great　heart　had　swelled　altogether　too　big　to　wear　his　bonds　any　longer；　so　he　just　took　his　pocket…book　out　of　his　desk；　and　went　over　into　Ohio；　and　bought　a　quarter　of　a　township　of　good；　rich　land；　made　out　free　papers　for　all　his　people；—men；　women；　and　children；—packed　them　up　in　wagons；　and　sent　them　off　to　settle　down；　and　then　honest　John　turned　his　face　up　the　creek；　and　sat　quietly　down　on　a　snug；　retired　farm；　to　enjoy　his　conscience　and　his　reflections。
“Are　you　the　man　that　will　shelter　a　poor　woman　and　child　from　slave…catchers？”　said　the　senator；　explicitly。
“I　rather　think　I　am；”　said　honest　John；　with　some　considerable　emphasis。
“I　thought　so；”’　said　the　senator。
“If　there’s　anybody　comes；”　said　the　good　man；　stretching　his　tall；　muscular　form　upward；　“why　here　I’m　ready　for　him：　and　I’ve　got　seven　sons；　each　six　foot　high；　and　they’ll　be　ready　for　’em。　Give　our　respects　to　’em；”　said　John；　“tell　’em　it’s　no　matter　how　soon　they　call；—make　no　kinder　difference　to　us；”　said　John；　running　his　fingers　through　the　shock　of　hair　that　thatched　his　head；　and　bursting　out　into　a　great　laugh。
Weary；　jaded；　and　spiritless；　Eliza　dragged　herself　up　to　the　door；　with　her　child　lying　in　a　heavy　sleep　on　her　arm。　The　rough　man　held　the　candle　to　her　face；　and　uttering　a　kind　of　compassionate　grunt；　opened　the　door　of　a　small　bed…room　adjoining　to　the　large　kitchen　where　they　were　standing；　and　motioned　her　to　go　in。　He　took　down　a　candle；　and　lighting　it；　set　it　upon　the　table；　and　then　addressed　himself　to　Eliza。
“Now；　I　say；　gal；　you　needn’t　be　a　bit　afeard；　let　who　will　come　here。　I’m　up　to　all　that　sort　o’　thing；”　said　he；　pointing　to　two　or　three　goodly　rifles　over　the　mantel…piece；　“and　most　people　that　know　me　know　that　’t　wouldn’t　be　healthy　to　try　to　get　anybody　out　o’　my　house　when　I’m　agin　it。　So　now　you　jist　go　to　sleep　now；　as　quiet　as　if　yer　mother　was　a　rockin’　ye；”　said　he；　as　he　shut　the　door。
“Why；　this　is　an　uncommon　handsome　un；”　he　said　to　the　senator。　“Ah；　well；　handsome　uns　has　the　greatest　cause　to　run；　sometimes；　if　they　has　any　kind　o’　feelin；　such　as　decent　women　should。　I　know　all　about　that。”
The　senator；　in　a　few　words；　briefly　explained　Eliza’s　history。
“O！　ou！　aw！　now；　I　want　to　know？”　said　the　good　man；　pitifully；　“sho！　now　sho！　That’s　natur　now；　poor　crittur！　hunted　down　now　like　a　deer；—hunted　down；　jest　for　havin’　natural　feelin’s；　and　doin’　what　no　kind　o’　mother　could　help　a　doin’！　I　tell　ye　what；　these　yer　things　make　me　come　the　nighest　to　swearin’；　now；　o’　most　anything；”　said　honest　John；　as　he　wiped　his　eyes　with　the　back　of　a　great；　freckled；　yellow　hand。　“I　tell　yer　what；　stranger；　it　was　years　and　years　before　I’d　jine　the　church；　’cause　the　ministers　round　in　our　parts　used　to　preach　that　the　Bible　went　in　for　these　ere　cuttings　up；—and　I　couldn’t　be　up　to　’em　with　their　Greek　and　Hebrew；　and　so　I　took　up　agin　’em；　Bible　and　all。　I　never　jined　the　church　till　I　found　a　minister　that　was　up　to　’em　all　in　Greek　and　all　that；　and　he　said　right　the　contrary；　and　then　I　took　right　hold；　and　jined　the　church；—I　did　now；　fact；”　said　John；　who　had　been　all　this　time　uncorking　some　very　frisky　bottled　cider；　which　at　this　juncture　he　presented。
“Ye’d　better　jest　put　up　here；　now；　till　daylight；”　said　he；　heartily；　“and　I’ll　call　up　the　old　woman；　and　have　a　bed　got　ready　for　you　in　no　time。”
“Thank　you；　my　good　friend；”　said　the　senator；　“I　must　be　along；　to　take　the　night　stage　for　Columbus。”
“Ah！　well；　then；　if　you　must；　I’ll　go　a　piece　with　you；　and　show　you　a　cross　road　that　will　take　you　there　better　than　the　road　you　came　on。　That　road’s　mighty　bad。”
John　equipped　himself；　and；　with　a　lantern　in　hand；　was　soon　seen　guiding　the　senator’s　carriage　towards　a　road　that　ran　down　in　a　hollow；　back　of　his　dwelling。　When　they　parted；　the　senator　put　into　his　hand　a　ten…dollar　bill。
“It’s　for　her；”　he　said；　briefly。
“Ay；　ay；”　said　John；　with　equal　conciseness。
They　shook　hands；　and　parted。
Chapter　10
The　Property　Is　Carried　Off
The　February　morning　looked　gray　and　drizzling　through　the　window　of　Uncle　Tom’s　cabin。　It　looked　on　downcast　faces；　the　images　of　mournful　hearts。　The　little　table　stood　out　before　the　fire；　covered　with　an　ironing…cloth；　a　coarse　but　clean　shirt　or　two；　fresh　from　the　iron；　hung　on　the　back　of　a　chair　by　the　fire；　and　Aunt　Chloe　had　another　spread　out　before　her　on　the　table。　Carefully　she　rubbed　and　ironed　every　fold　and　every　hem；　with　the　most　scrupulous　exactness；　every　now　and　then　raising　her　hand　to　her　face　to　wipe　off　the　tears　that　were　coursing　down　her　cheeks。
Tom　sat　by；　with　his　Testament　open　on　his　knee；　and　his　head　leaning　upon　his　hand；—but　neither　spoke。　It　was　yet　early；　and　the　children　lay　all　asleep　together　in　their　little　rude　trundle…bed。
Tom；　who　had；　to　the　full；　the　gentle；　domestic　heart；　which　woe　for　them！　has　been　a　peculiar　characteristic　of　his　unhappy　race；　got　up　and　walked　silently　to　look　at　his　children。
“It’s　the　last　time；”　he　said。
Aunt　Chloe　did　not　answer；　only　rubbed　away　over　and　over　on　the　coarse　shirt；　already　as　smooth　as　hands　could　make　it；　and　finally　setting　her　iron　suddenly　down　with　a　despairing　plunge；　she　sat　down　to　the　table；　and　“lifted　up　her　voice　and　wept。”
“S’pose　we　must　be　resigned；　but　oh　Lord！　how　ken　I？　If　I　know’d　anything　whar　you　’s　goin’；　or　how　they’d　sarve　you！　Missis　says　she’ll　try　and　’deem　ye；　in　a　year　or　two；　but　Lor！　nobody　never　comes　up　that　goes　down　thar！　They　kills　’em！　I’ve　hearn　’em　tell　how　dey　works　’em　up　on　dem　ar　plantations。”
“There’ll　be　the　same　God　there；　Chloe；　that　there　is　here。”
“Well；”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　“s’pose　dere　will；　but　de　Lord　lets　drefful　things　happen；　sometimes。　I　don’t　seem　to　get　no　comfort　dat　way。”
“I’m　in　the　Lord’s　hands；”　said　Tom；　“nothin’　can　go　no　furder　than　he　lets　it；—and　thar’s　one　thing　I　can　thank　him　for。　It’s　me　that’s　sold　and　going　down；　and　not　you　nur　the　chil’en。　Here　you’re　safe；—what　comes　will　come　only　on　me；　and　the　Lord；　he’ll　help　me；—I　know　he　will。”
Ah；　brave；　manly　heart；—smothering　thine　own　sorrow；　to　comfort　thy　beloved　ones！　Tom　spoke　with　a　thick　utterance；　and　with　a　bitter　choking　in　his　throat；—but　he　spoke　brave　and　strong。
“Let’s　think　on　our　marcies！”　he　added；　tremulously；　as　if　he　was　quite　sure　he　needed　to　think　on　them　very　hard　indeed。
“Marcies！”　said　Aunt　Chloe；　“don’t　see　no　marcy　in　’t！　’tan’t　right！　tan’t　right　it　should　be　so！　Mas’r　never　ought　ter　left　it　so　that　ye　could　be　took　for　his　debts。　Ye’ve　arnt　him　all　he　gets　for　ye；　twice　over。　He　owed　ye　yer　freedom；　and　ought　ter　gin　’t　to　yer　years　ago。　Mebbe　he　can’t　help　himself　now；　but　I　feel　it’s　wrong。　Nothing　can’t　beat　that　ar　out　o’　me。　Sich　a　faithful　crittur　as　ye’ve　been；—and　allers　sot　his　business　’fore　yer　own　every　way；—and　reckoned　on　him　more　than　yer　own　wife　and　chil’en！　Them　as　sells　heart’s　love　and　heart’s　blood；　to　get　out　thar　scrapes；　de　Lord’ll　be　up　to　’em！”
“Chloe！