Uncle Tom's cabin / Хижина дяди Тома. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Гарриет Бичер-Стоу

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      “Ay, crow away, poor crittur!” said Aunt Chloe; “ye ’ll have to come to it, too! ye ’ll live to see yer husband sold, or mebbe be sold yerself; and these yer boys, they ’s to be sold, I s’pose, too, jest like as not, when dey gets good for somethin’; an’t no use in niggers havin’ nothin’!”

      Here one of the boys called out, “Thar ’s Missis a-comin’ in!”

      “She can’t do no good; what ’s she coming for?” said Aunt Chloe.

      Mrs. Shelby entered. Aunt Chloe set a chair for her in a manner decidedly gruff and crusty. She did not seem to notice either the action or the manner. She looked pale and anxious.

      “Tom,” she said, “I come to – ” and stopping suddenly, and regarding the silent group, she sat down in the chair, and, covering her face with her handkerchief, began to sob.

      “Lor, now, Missis, don’t – don’t!” said Aunt Chloe, bursting out in her turn; and for a few moments they all wept in company. And in those tears they all shed together, the high and the lowly, melted away all the heart-burnings and anger of the oppressed. O, ye who visit the distressed, do ye know that everything your money can buy, given with a cold, averted face, is not worth one honest tear shed in real sympathy?

      “My good fellow,” said Mrs. Shelby, “I can’t give you anything to do you any good. If I give you money, it will only be taken from you. But I tell you solemnly, and before God, that I will keep trace of you, and bring you back as soon as I can command the money; – and, till then, trust in God!”

      Here the boys called out that Mas’r Haley was coming, and then an unceremonious kick pushed open the door. Haley stood there in very ill humor, having ridden hard the night before, and being not at all pacified by his ill success in recapturing his prey.

      “Come,” said he, “ye nigger, ye ’r ready? Servant, ma’am!” said he, taking off his hat, as he saw Mrs. Shelby.

      Aunt Chloe shut and corded the box, and, getting up, looked gruffly on the trader, her tears seeming suddenly turned to sparks of fire.

      Tom rose up meekly, to follow his new master, and raised up his heavy box on his shoulder. His wife took the baby in her arms to go with him to the wagon, and the children, still crying, trailed on behind.

      Mrs. Shelby, walking up to the trader, detained him for a few moments, talking with him in an earnest manner; and while she was thus talking, the whole family party proceeded to a wagon, that stood ready harnessed at the door. A crowd of all the old and young hands on the place stood gathered around it, to bid farewell to their old associate. Tom had been looked up to, both as a head servant and a Christian teacher, by all the place, and there was much honest sympathy and grief about him, particularly among the women.

      “Why, Chloe, you bar it better ’n we do!” said one of the women, who had been weeping freely, noticing the gloomy calmness with which Aunt Chloe stood by the wagon.

      “I ’s done my tears!” she said, looking grimly at the trader, who was coming up. “I does not feel to cry ’fore dat ar old limb, no how!”

      “Get in!” said Haley to Tom, as he strode through the crowd of servants, who looked at him with lowering brows.

      Tom got in, and Haley, drawing out from under the wagon seat a heavy pair of shackles, made them fast around each ankle.

      A smothered groan of indignation ran through the whole circle, and Mrs. Shelby spoke from the verandah, —

      “Mr. Haley, I assure you that precaution is entirely unnecessary.”

      “Do’n know, ma’am; I’ve lost one five hundred dollars from this yer place, and I can’t afford to run no more risks.”

      “What else could she spect on him?” said Aunt Chloe, indignantly, while the two boys, who now seemed to comprehend at once their father’s destiny, clung to her gown, sobbing and groaning vehemently.

      “I ’m sorry,” said Tom, “that Mas’r George happened to be away.”

      George had gone to spend two or three days with a companion on a neighboring estate, and having departed early in the morning, before Tom’s misfortune had been made public, had left without hearing of it.

      “Give my love to Mas’r George,” he said, earnestly.

      Haley whipped up the horse, and, with a steady, mournful look, fixed to the last on the old place, Tom was whirled away.

      Mr. Shelby at this time was not at home. He had sold Tom under the spur of a driving necessity, to get out of the power of a man whom he dreaded, – and his first feeling, after the consummation of the bargain, had been that of relief. But his wife’s expostulations awoke his half-slumbering regrets; and Tom’s manly disinterestedness increased the unpleasantness of his feelings. It was in vain that he said to himself that he had a right to do it, – that everybody did it, – and that some did it without even the excuse of necessity; – he could not satisfy his own feelings; and that he might not witness the unpleasant scenes of the consummation, he had gone on a short business tour up the country, hoping that all would be over before he returned.

      Tom and Haley rattled on along the dusty road, whirling past every old familiar spot, until the bounds of the estate were fairly passed, and they found themselves out on the open pike. After they had ridden about a mile, Haley suddenly drew up at the door of a blacksmith’s shop, when, taking out with him a pair of handcuffs, he stepped into the shop, to have a little alteration in them.

      “These yer ’s a little too small for his build,” said Haley, showing the fetters, and pointing out to Tom.

      “Lor! now, if thar an’t Shelby’s Tom. He han’t sold him, now?” said the smith.

      “Yes, he has,” said Haley.

      “Now, ye don’t! well, reely,” said the smith, “who ’d a thought it! Why, ye need n’t go to fetterin’ him up this yer way. He ’s the faithfullest, best crittur – ”

      “Yes, yes,” said Haley; “but your good fellers are just the critturs to want ter run off. Them stupid ones, as does n’t care whar they go, and shifless, drunken ones, as don’t care for nothin’, they ’ll stick by, and like as not be rather pleased to be toted round; but these yer prime fellers, they hates it like sin. No way but to fetter ’em; got legs, – they ’ll use ’em, – no mistake.”

      “Well,” said the smith, feeling among his tools, “them plantations down thar, stranger, an’t jest the place a Ken-tuck nigger wants to go to; they dies thar tol’able fast, don’t they?”

      “Wal, yes, tol’able fast, ther dying is; what with the ’climating and one thing and another, they dies so as to keep the market up pretty brisk,” said Haley.

      “Wal, now, a feller can’t help thinkin’ it ’s a mighty pity to have a nice, quiet, likely feller, as good un as Tom is, go down to be fairly ground up on one of them ar sugar plantations.”

      “Wal, he ’s got a fa’r chance. I promised to do well by him. I’ll get him in house-servant in some good old family, and then, if he stands the fever and ’climating, he ’ll have a berth good as any nigger ought ter ask for.”

      “He leaves his wife and chil’en up here, s’pose?”

      “Yes; but СКАЧАТЬ