ELSIE DINSMORE Complete Series: 28 Books in One Edition. Martha Finley

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      "Yes, a check on a New Orleans bank."

      "Please walk down into the cabin then, sir, and we'll conclude the business at once."

      In a few moments Mr. Dinsmore returned to his daughter's side, and placing the receipted bill of sale in her hands, asked, "Have I given too much?"

      "Oh, no, papa, no indeed! I should have given a thousand without a moment's hesitation, if asked it—five, ten thousand, if need be, rather than have them parted again," she exclaimed, the bright tears shining in her eyes. "Mammy, my poor old mammy, Uncle Joe belongs to me now, and you can have him always with you as long as the Lord spares your lives."

      "Now bress de Lord!" cried the old woman devoutly, raising her streaming eyes and clasped hands to heaven; "de good Lord dat hears de prayers ob His chilen's cryin' to Him when dere hearts is oberwhelmed!"

      "Go break the news to Uncle Joe, mammy," said Elsie; "see, yonder he stands looking so eager and wistful."

      Chloe hurried to his side, spoke a few rapid words; there was another long, clinging, tearful embrace, and they hastened to their master and mistress to pour out their thanks and blessings upon them, mingled with praises and fervent thanksgivings to the Giver of all good.

      The joy and gratitude of the poor old couple were very sweet, very delightful to Elsie, and scarcely less so to her father.

      "Mammy dear, I never saw you wear so happy a face," Elsie said, as Chloe returned to her after an hour or two spent in close conversation with her newly recovered spouse.

      "Ah, honey, your ole mammy tinks she neber so glad in all her life!" cried the poor old creature, clasping her hands together in an ecstasy of joy and gratitude while the big tears shone in her eyes. "I'se got ole Uncle Joe back agin, an' he not de same, he bettah man, Christian man. He say, 'Aunt Chloe we uns trabble de same road now, honey: young Joe proud, angry, swearing drinkin' boy, your Ole Joe he lub de Lord an' try to sarve Him wid all he might. And de Lord good Massa. De debbil berry bad one.'"

      "Dear mammy, I am very glad for you; I think nothing else could have made you so happy."

      Chloe, weeping again for joy, went on to tell her young mistress that Uncle Joe had discovered a grandchild in New Orleans, Dinah by name, waiting-maid in a wealthy family.

      "But how is that, mammy? Papa and I thought all your children died young."

      "No, darlin', when Massa Grayson buy me in New Orleans, an' de odder gentleman buy Uncle Joe, we hab little girl four years ole, an' de ole missus keep her," sobbed Chloe, living over again the agony of the parting, "an' Dinah her chile."

      "Mammy, if money will buy her, you shall have her, too," said Elsie earnestly.

      The remainder of the short voyage was a happy time to the whole of our little party, Chloe, with her restored husband by her side, now looking forward to the visit to Viamede with almost unmingled pleasure.

      As they passed up the bay, entered Teche Bayou and pressed on, threading their way through lake and lakelet, past plain and forest, plantation and swamp, Elsie exclaimed again and again at the beauty of the scenery. Cool shady dells carpeted with the rich growth of flowers, miles upon miles of lawns as smoothly shaven, as velvety green and as nobly shaded by magnificent oaks and magnolias, as any king's demesne; lordly villas peering through groves of orange trees, tall white, sugar-houses and the long rows of cabins of the laborers; united to form a panorama of surpassing loveliness.

      "Is Viamede as lovely as that, papa?" Elsie would ask, as they steamed past one fine residence after another.

      "Quite," he would reply with a smile, at length adding, "There is not a more beautiful or valuable estate in the country; as you may judge for yourself, for this is it."

      "This, papa? Oh it is lovely, lovely! and everything in such perfect order," she cried delightedly as they swept on past a large sugar-house and an immense orange orchard, whose golden fruit and glossy leaves shone brightly in the slanting rays of the nearly setting sun, to a lawn as large, as thickly carpeted with smoothly shaven grass and many-hued flowers, and as finely shaded with giant oaks, graceful magnolias, and groves of orange trees, as any they had passed. The house—a grand old mansion with spacious rooms, wide cool halls and corridors—was now in full view, now half concealed by the trees and shrubbery.

      The boat rounded to at a little pier opposite the dwelling, and in another moment our friends had landed, and leaving the servants to attend to the baggage were walking on towards the house.

      Chapter Sixth

       Table of Contents

      "Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?

       Draw near them then in being merciful,

       Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge."

       —SHAKESPEARE.

      "Papa, it seems an earthly paradise," said Elsie, "and like a dream that I have seen all before."

      "A dream that was a reality. And it is all your own, my darling," he answered with a proud, fond look into the bright animated face, keenly enjoying her pleasure.

      "But what, what is going on there?" she asked, gazing intently in the direction of the negro quarter, where a large crowd of them, probably all belonging to the plantation, were assembled.

      At that instant something rose in the air and descended again, and a wild shriek, a woman's wail of agony, rent the air.

      Elsie flew over the ground as though she had been a winged creature, her father having to exert himself to keep pace with her. But the whip had descended again and again, another and another of those wild shrieks testifying to the sharpness of its sting, ere they were near enough to interfere.

      So taken up with the excitement of the revolting scene were all present, that the landing and the approach of our friends had not been observed until Elsie, nearing the edge of the crowd, called out in a voice of authority, and indignation, "Stop! not another blow!"

      The crowd parted, showing a middle-aged negress stripped to the waist and tied to a whipping post, writhing and sobbing with pain and terror, while a white man stood over her with a horse-whip in his uplifted hand, stayed in mid-air by the sudden appearance of those in authority over him.

      "How dare you! how dare you!" cried Elsie, stamping her foot, and drawing a long, sobbing breath. "Take her down this instant."

      "Mr. Spriggs, what is the meaning of this?" asked Mr. Dinsmore, in tones of calm displeasure; "did I not forbid all cruel punishment on this estate?"

      "I've got to make 'em work; I'm bound they shall, and nothing but the whip'll do it with this lazy wretch," muttered Spriggs, dropping his whip and stepping back a little, while two stalwart fellows obeyed Elsie's order to take the woman down, a murmur at the same time running from lip to lip, "It's Marse Dinsmore, and our young missus."

      Elsie shuddered and wept at sight of the bleeding back and shoulders. "Cover her up quickly, and take her away where she can lie down and rest," she said to the women who were crowding round to greet and welcome herself. "I will speak to you all afterwards, I'm glad to be here among you." Then СКАЧАТЬ