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Uncle Tom’s Cabin Or Life Among The Lowly PDF Free Download
A MAN OF HUMANITY
NE chilly day in February, two gentlemen were sitting in a well-furnished room, in a Kentucky town, discussing some subject with great earnestness One of the parties, however, did not seem to be a ness. gentleman when critically examined.
He was short and thick-set, with coarse features and a swaggering air; ungrammatical and sometimes profane in his speech.
His companion, Mr. Shelby, had the appearance of a gentleman, and the arrangements of the house indicated easy and even opulent circumstances.
“That is the way I should arrange the matter,” said Mr. Shelby.
“I can’t make a trade that way-I positively can’t, Mr. Shelby,” said the other.
“Why, the fact is, Haley, Tom is an uncommon fellow; he is certainly worth that sum anywhere, steady, honest, capable, manages my whole farm like a clock.”
“You mean honest, as niggers go,” said Haley. “No; I mean, really, Tom is a good, steady, sensible, pious fellow.
He got religion at a camp meeting, four years ago; and I believe he really did get it. I’ve trusted him, since then, with everything I have,-money, house, horses, and let him come and go round the country; and I always found him true and square in everything.”
“Some folks don’t believe there is pious niggers, Shelby,”
said Haley. “Well, Tom’s got the real article, if ever a fellow had,” rejoined the other. “Why, last fall, I let him go to Cin Cincinnati alone, to do business for me and bring home five hundred dollars.
I am sorry to part with Tom. You ought to let him cover the whole balance of the debt; and you would, Haley if you had any conscience.”
“Well, I’ve got just as much conscience as any man in the business can afford to keep; but this, yer see, is a little too hard on a fellow-a little too hard.”
The trader sighed contemplatively. “Well, then, Haley, how will you trade?” said Mr. Shel by, after an uneasy interval of silence.
“Well, haven’t you a boy or gal that you could throw in with Tom?” “Hum!-none that I could well spare.
I don’t like parting with any of my hands, that’s a fact.” Here the door opened, and a small quadroon boy, between four and five years of age, entered the room.
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.”
A round, black, shining face is hers.
Her whole plump countenance beams with satisfaction and contentment from under her wellstarched checked turban, for Aunt Chloe was acknowledged to be the best cook in the neighborhood.
In one corner of the cottage stood a bed, covered neatly with a snowy spread; and by the side of it was a piece of carpeting, of some considerable size. In the other corner was a bed of much humbler pretensions, and evidently designed for use.
On a rough bench in the corner, a couple of woollyheaded boys, with glistening black eyes and fat shining cheeks, were busy in superintending the first walking operations of the baby.
A table, somewhat rheumatic in its limbs, was drawn out in front of the fire, and at this table was seated Uncle Tom, Mr. Shelby’s best hand the hero of our story.
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.
“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 re-commenced.
“How easy white folks al’us does things!” said Aunt Chloe, regarding } r oung 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 interest in’ !”
“But, Aunt Chloe, I’m getting mighty hungry,” said George. “Is n’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.”
And with this, 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.
| Author | Harriet Beecher Stowe |
| Language | English |
| No. of Pages | 332 |
| PDF Size | 20.6 MB |
| Category | Novel |
Uncle Tom’s Cabin Or Life Among The Lowly PDF Free Download