英语天堂-第92章

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　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　then；　when　the　light　faded；　and　the　work　was　folded　away；　with　one　turn　out　came　the　ever…ready　knitting…work；　and　there　she　was　again；　going　on　as　briskly　as　ever。　It　really　was　a　labor　to　see　her。
Chapter　20
Topsy
One　morning；　while　Miss　Ophelia　was　busy　in　some　of　her　domestic　cares；　St。　Clare’s　voice　was　heard；　calling　her　at　the　foot　of　the　stairs。
“Come　down　here；　Cousin；　I’ve　something　to　show　you。”
“What　is　it？”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　coming　down；　with　her　sewing　in　her　hand。
“I’ve　made　a　purchase　for　your　department；—see　here；”　said　St。　Clare；　and；　with　the　word；　he　pulled　along　a　little　negro　girl；　about　eight　or　nine　years　of　age。
She　was　one　of　the　blackest　of　her　race；　and　her　round　shining　eyes；　glittering　as　glass　beads；　moved　with　quick　and　restless　glances　over　everything　in　the　room。　Her　mouth；　half　open　with　astonishment　at　the　wonders　of　the　new　Mas’r’s　parlor；　displayed　a　white　and　brilliant　set　of　teeth。　Her　woolly　hair　was　braided　in　sundry　little　tails；　which　stuck　out　in　every　direction。　The　expression　of　her　face　was　an　odd　mixture　of　shrewdness　and　cunning；　over　which　was　oddly　drawn；　like　a　kind　of　veil；　an　expression　of　the　most　doleful　gravity　and　solemnity。　She　was　dressed　in　a　single　filthy；　ragged　garment；　made　of　bagging；　and　stood　with　her　hands　demurely　folded　before　her。　Altogether；　there　was　something　odd　and　goblin…like　about　her　appearance；—something；　as　Miss　Ophelia　afterwards　said；　“so　heathenish；”　as　to　inspire　that　good　lady　with　utter　dismay；　and　turning　to　St。　Clare；　she　said；
“Augustine；　what　in　the　world　have　you　brought　that　thing　here　for？”
“For　you　to　educate；　to　be　sure；　and　train　in　the　way　she　should　go。　I　thought　she　was　rather　a　funny　specimen　in　the　Jim　Crow　line。　Here；　Topsy；”　he　added；　giving　a　whistle；　as　a　man　would　to　call　the　attention　of　a　dog；　“give　us　a　song；　now；　and　show　us　some　of　your　dancing。”
The　black；　glassy　eyes　glittered　with　a　kind　of　wicked　drollery；　and　the　thing　struck　up；　in　a　clear　shrill　voice；　an　odd　negro　melody；　to　which　she　kept　time　with　her　hands　and　feet；　spinning　round；　clapping　her　hands；　knocking　her　knees　together；　in　a　wild；　fantastic　sort　of　time；　and　producing　in　her　throat　all　those　odd　guttural　sounds　which　distinguish　the　native　music　of　her　race；　and　finally；　turning　a　summerset　or　two；　and　giving　a　prolonged　closing　note；　as　odd　and　unearthly　as　that　of　a　steam…whistle；　she　came　suddenly　down　on　the　carpet；　and　stood　with　her　hands　folded；　and　a　most　sanctimonious　expression　of　meekness　and　solemnity　over　her　face；　only　broken　by　the　cunning　glances　which　she　shot　askance　from　the　corners　of　her　eyes。
Miss　Ophelia　stood　silent；　perfectly　paralyzed　with　amazement。　St。　Clare；　like　a　mischievous　fellow　as　he　was；　appeared　to　enjoy　her　astonishment；　and；　addressing　the　child　again；　said；
“Topsy；　this　is　your　new　mistress。　I’m　going　to　give　you　up　to　her；　see　now　that　you　behave　yourself。”
“Yes；　Mas’r；”　said　Topsy；　with　sanctimonious　gravity；　her　wicked　eyes　twinkling　as　she　spoke。
“You’re　going　to　be　good；　Topsy；　you　understand；”　said　St。　Clare。
“O　yes；　M