The trader walked up and down for a time； and ocomasionally stopped and looked at her。
“Takes it hard； rather；” he soliloquized； “but quiet； tho’；—let her sweat a while； she’ll come right； by and by！”
Tom had watched the whole transaction from first to last； and had a perfect understanding of its results。 To him； it looked like something unutterably horrible and cruel； because； poor； ignorant black soul！ he had not learned to generalize； and to take enlarged views。 If he had only been instructed by certain ministers of Christianity； he might have thought better of it； and seen in it an every…day incident of a lawful trade； a trade which is the vital suport of an institution which an American divine3 tells us has “no evils but such as are inseparable from any other relations in social and domestic life。” But Tom； as we see； being a poor； ignorant fellow； whose reading had been confined entirely to the New Testament； could not comfort and solace himself with views like these。 His very soul bled within him for what seemed to him the wrongs of the poor suffering thing that lay like a crushed reed on the boxes； the feeling； living； bleeding； yet immortal thing； which American state law coolly classes with the bundles； and bales； and boxes； among which she is lying。
Tom drew near； and tried to say something； but she only groaned。 Honestly； and with tears running down his own cheeks； he spoke of a heart of love in the skies； of a pitying Jesus； and an eternal home； but the ear was deaf with anguish； and the palsied heart could not feel。
Night came on；—night calm； unmoved； and glorious； shining down with her innumerable and solemn angel eyes； twinkling； beautiful； but silent。 There was no speech nor language； no pitying voice or helping hand； from that distant sky。 One after another； the voices of business or pleasure died away； all on the boat were sleeping； and the ripples at the prow were plainly heard。 Tom stretched himself out on a box； and there； as he lay； he heard； ever and anon； a smothered sob or cry from the prostrate creature；—“O！ what shall I do？ O Lord！ O good Lord； do help me！” and so； ever and anon； until the murmur died away in silence。
At midnight； Tom waked； with a sudden start。 Something black passed quickly by him to the side of the boat； and he heard a splash in the water。 No one else saw or heard anything。 He raised his head；—the woman’s place was vacant！ He got up； and sought about him in vain。 The poor bleeding heart was still； at last； and the river rippled and dimpled just as brightly as if it had not closed above it。
Patience！ patience！ ye whose hearts swell indignant at wrongs like these。 Not one throb of anguish； not one tear of the oppressed； is forgotten by the Man of Sorrows； the Lord of Glory。 In his patient； generous bosom he bears the anguish of a world。 Bear thou； like him； in patience； and labor in love； for sure as he is God； “the year of his redeemed shall come。”
The trader waked up bright and early； and came out to see to his live stock。 It was now his turn to look about in perplexity。
“Where alive is that gal？” he said to Tom。
Tom； who had learned the wisdom of keeping counsel； did not feel called upon to state his observations and suspicions； but said he did not know。
“She surely couldn’t have got off in the night at any of the landings； for I was awake； and on the lookout； whenever the boat stopped。 I never trust these yer things to other folks。”
This speech was addressed to Tom quite confidentially； as if it was something that would be specially interesting to him。 Tom made no answer。
The trader searched the boat from stem to stern； among boxes； bales and barrels； around the machinery； by the chimneys； in vain。
“Now； I say； Tom； be fair about this yer；” he said； when； after a fruitless search； he came where Tom was standing。 “You know something about it； now。 Don’t tell me；—I know you do。 I saw the gal stretched out here about ten o’clock； and ag’in at twelve； and ag’in between one and two； and then at four she was gone； and you was a sleeping right there all the time。 Now； you know something；—you can’t help it。”
“Well； Mas’r；” said Tom； “towards morning something brushed by me； and I kinder half woke； and then I hearn a great splash； and then I clare woke up； and the gal was gone。 That’s all I know on ’t。”
The trader was not shocked nor amazed； because； as we said before； he was used to a great many things that you are not used to。 Even the awful presence of Death struck no solemn chill upon him。 He had seen Death many times；—met him in the way of trade； and got acquainted with him；—and he only thought of him as a hard customer； that embarrassed his property operations very unfairly； and so he only swore that the gal was a baggage； and that he was devilish unlucky； and that； if things went on in this way； he should not make a cent on the trip。 In short； he seemed to consider himself an ill…used man； decidedly； but there was no help for it； as the woman had escaped into a state which never will give up a fugitive；—not even at the demand of the whole glorious Union。 The trader； therefore； sat discontentedly down； with his little acomount…book； and put down the missing body and soul under the head of losses！
“He’s a shocking creature； isn’t he；—this trader？ so unfeeling！ It’s dreadful； really！”
“O； but nobody thinks anything of these traders！ They are universally despised；—never received into any decent society。”
But who； sir； makes the trader？ Who is most to blame？ The enlightened； cultivated； intelligent man； who supports the system of which the trader is the inevitable result； or the poor trader himself？ You make the public statement that calls for his trade； that debauches and depraves him； till he feels no shame in it； and in what are you better than he？
Are you educated and he ignorant； you high and he low； you refined and he coarse； you talented and he simple？
In the day of a future judgment； these very considerations may make it more tolerable for him than for you。
In concluding these little incidents of lawful trade； we must beg the world not to think that American legislators are entirely destitute of humanity； as might； perhaps； be unfairly inferred from the great efforts made in our national body to protect and perpetuate this species of traffic。
Who does not know how our great men are outdoing themselves； in declaiming against the foreign slave…trade。 There are a perfect host of Clarksons and Wilberforces4 risen up among us on that subject； most edifying to hear and behold。 Trading negroes from Africa； dear reader； is so horrid！ It is not to be thought of！ But trading them from Kentucky；—that’s quite another thing！
1 Jer。 31：15。
2 Gen。 9：25。 This is what Noah says when he wakes out of drunkenness and realizes that his youngest son； Ham； father of Canaan； has seen him naked。
3 Dr。 Joel Parker of Philadelphia。 ＇Mrs。 Stowe’s note。＇ Presbyterian clergyman （1799…1873）； a friend of the Beecher family。 Mrs。 Stowe attempted unsucomessfully to have this identifying note removed from the stereotype…plate of the first edition。
4 Thomas Clarkson （1760…1846） and William Wilberforce （1759…1833）； English philanthropists and anti…slavery agitators who helped to secure passage of the Emancipation Bill by Parliament in 1833。
Chapter 13
The Quaker Settlement
A quiet scene now rises before us。 A large； roomy； neatly…painted kitchen； its yellow floor glossy and smooth； and without a particle of dust； a neat； well…blacked cooking…stove； rows of shining tin； suggestive of unmentionable good things to the appetite； glossy green wood chairs； old and firm； a small flag…bottomed rocking…chair； with a patch…work cushion in it； neatly contrived out of small pieces of different colored woollen goods； and a larger sized one； motherly and old； whose wide arms breathed hospitable invitation； seconded by the solicitation of its feather cushions；—a real comfortable； persuasive old chair； and worth； in the way of honest； homely enjoyment； a dozen of your plush or brochetelle drawing…room gentry； and in the chair； gently swaying back and forward； her eyes bent on some fine sewing； sat our fine old friend Eliza。 Yes； there she is； paler and thinner than in her Kentucky home； with a world of quiet sorrow lying under the shadow of her long eyelashes； and marking the outline of her gentle mouth！ It was plain to see how old and firm the girlish heart was grown under the discipline of heavy sorrow； and when； anon； her large dark eye was raised to follow the gambols of her little Harry； who was sporting； like some tropical butterfly； hither and thither over the floor； she showed a depth of firmness and steady resolve that was never there in her earlier and happier days。
By her side sat a woman with a bright tin pan in her lap； into which she was carefully sorting some dried peaches。 She might be fifty…five or sixty； but hers was one of those faces that time seems to touch only to brighten and adorn。 The snowy fisse crape cap； made after the strait Quaker pattern；—the plain white muslin handkerchief； lying in placid folds across her bosom；—the drab shawl and dress；—showed at once the community to which she belonged。 Her face was round and rosy； with a healthful downy softness； suggestive of a ripe peach。 Her hair； partially silvered by age； was parted smoothly back from a high placid forehead； on which time had written no inscription； except peace on earth； good will to men； and beneath shone a large pair of clear； honest； loving brown eyes； you only needed to look straight into them； to feel that you saw to the bottom of a heart as good and true as ever throbbed in woman’s bosom。 So much has been said and sung of beautiful young girls； why don’t somebody wake up to the beauty of old women？ If any want to get up an inspiration under this head； we refer them to our good friend Rachel Halliday； just as she sits there in her little rocking…chair。 It had a turn for quacking and squeaking；—that chair had；—either from having taken cold in early life； or from some asthmatic affection； or perhaps from nervous derangement； but； as she gently swung backward and forward； the chair kept up a kind of subdued “creechy crawchy；” that would have been intolerable