THE CABIN of Uncle Tom was a small log building, close to "the house," as the negro designates his master's dwelling. 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 territory to "get her ole man's supper." Therefore, no doubt that it is her you see by the fire, presiding with anxious interest over certain frizzling items in a stew pan.

  On a rough bench in the corner, a couple of woolly-headed boys were busy superintending the first walking operations of the baby.

  A table, somewhat rheumatic in its limbs, was drawn out in front of the fire. At this table was seated Uncle Tom, Mr. Shelby's best hand and 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.

  He was busily intent at this moment on a slate lying before him, on which he was carefully and slowly endeavoring to copy some letters, in which operation he was overlooked by young Mas'r George, a bright boy of thirteen.

  "Aunt Chloe, I'm getting hungry," said George at length. "Isn'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. Now, Mas'r George, you jest take off dem books, and set down with my ole man, and I'll take up de sausages, and have de first griddle full of cakes on your plates in less dan no time."

  "They wanted me to come to supper at the house," said George; "but I knew what was what too well for that, Aunt Chloe."

  "So you did, so you did, honey," said Aunt Chloe, heaping the smoking batter cakes on his plate; "you know'd your old aunty'd keep the best for you. O, let you alone for dat! Go way!" And with that, Aunt Chloe gave George a nudge with her finger, designed to be immensely facetious, and turned again to her griddle with great briskness.

  "Now, for the cake," said Master George, when the activity of the grid-

  "La bless you, Mas'r George!" said Aunt Chloe, with earnestness, catching his arm, "you wouldn't be for cuttin' it wid ar great heavy knife! Smash all down—spile all de pretty rise of it. Here, I've got a thin old knife, I keeps sharp a purpose. Dar, now, see! comes apart light as a feather! Now, eat away—you won't get anything to beat dat ar."

  Master George obeyed, and at length arrived at that pass where he really could not eat another morsel, and, therefore, he was at leisure to notice the pile of woolly heads and glistening eyes which were regarding him from the opposite corner.

  "Here, you, Mose, Pete," he said, breaking off liberal bits, and throwing them at the boys, "you want some, don't you? Come, Aunt Chloe, bake them some cakes."

  George and Uncle Tom moved to a comfortable seat in the chimney-corner, while Aunt Chloe, after baking a goodly pile of cakes, took her baby on her lap, and began alternately filling its mouth and her own, and distributing to Mose and Pete, who seemed rather to prefer eating theirs as they rolled about on the floor under the table, tickling each other, and occasionally pulling the baby's toes.

  While this scene was taking place in the cabin of the man, one quite unlike it was passing in the hall of the master.

  The trader and Mr. Shelby were seated together at a table covered with papers and writing utensils.

  Mr. Shelby was busy counting some bundles of bills, which as they were counted, he pushed over to the trader, who counted them likewise.

  "All fair," said the trader; "and now for signing these yer."

  Mr. Shelby hastily drew the bills of sale toward him, and signed them. Haley produced from a well-worn valise a parchment, which he handed to Mr. Shelby.

  "Haley," said Mr. Shelby, "I hope you'll remember that you promised on your honor, you wouldn't sell Tom, without knowing what sort of hands he's going into."

  "Wal," said the trader, "I'll do the very best I can in gettin' Tom a good berth; as to my treatin' him bad, you needn't be afeared a bit. If there's anything that I thank the Lord for, it is that I am never no ways cruel."

  Mr. Shelby did not feel particularly reassured by these declarations; but as they were the best comfort the case admitted of, he allowed the trader to depart in silence.

  When Mr. and Mrs. Shelby had retired to their apartment for the night, Mrs. Shelby, turning to her husband, said, carelessly:

  "By the by, Arthur, who was that low-bred fellow that you lugged in to our dinner table to-day?"

  "Haley is his name," said Shelby.

  "Is he a negro-trader?" asked Mrs. Shelby, noticing a certain embarrassment in her husband's manner.

  "Why, my dear, what put that into your head ?" said Mr. Shelby, looking up.

  "Nothing—only Eliza came in here after dinner, in a great worry, crying and taking on, and said you were talking with a trader, and that she heard him make an offer for her boy—the ridiculous little goose."

  "Well, Emily," said her husband, "the fact is that I shall have to sell off some of my hands."

  "To that creature? You can not be serious."

  "I am sorry to say that I am," said Mr. Shelby. "I've agreed to sell Tom."

  "What! our Tom? That good, faithful creature! Why, he has been your faithful servant from a boy! I can believe now that you could sell little Harry, poor Eliza's only child!" cried Mrs. Shelby.

  "Well, since you must know all, it is so. I have agreed to sell Tom and Harry. Haley has come into possession of a mortgage, which, if I don't clear off with him directly, will take everything before it. I've raked, and scraped, and borrowed, and all but begged, and the price of these two was needed to make up the balance, and I had to give them up. If you feel so to have them sold, would it be any better to have all sold?"

  Mrs. Shelby stood like one stricken. At last she said; "This is God's curse on slavery—a bitter, bitter, most accursed thing—a curse to the master and a curse to the slave! It is a sin to hold a slave under laws like ours. I always felt it was a sin; but I thought I could gild it over—I thought by kindness, care, and instruction, I could make the condition of mine better than freedom—fool that I was!"

  "I'm sorry, very sorry, Emily," said Mr. Shelby, "I'm sorry this takes hold of you so; but it will do no good. The fact is, Emily, the thing's done; the bills of sale are already signed, and in Haley's hands; and you must be thankful it is no worse."

  There was one listener to this conversation whom Mr. and Mrs. Shelby little suspected.

  Communicating with their apartment was a large closet, opening by a door into the outer passage. When Mrs. Shelby had dismissed Eliza for the night, her feverish and excited mind had suggested the idea of hiding in this place. This she had done, and, with her ear pressed close against the crack of the door, had lost not a word of the conversation.

  When the voices died away into silence, she rose and crept stealthily away

"O, missis! dear missis! don't think me ungrateful—don't think hard of me, anyway—I heard all you and master said to-night. I am going to try to save my boy—you will not blame me! God bless and reward you for all your kindness!"

  Hastily folding and directing this, she made up a little package of clothing for her boy, which she tied with a handkerchief firmly round her waist.

  "Where are you going, mother?" he asked, as she drew near the bed with his little coat and cap.

  "Hush, Harry," she said, "mustn't speak loud, or they will hear us. A wicked man was coming to take little Harry away from his mother, and carry him away off in the dark; but mother won't let him—she's going to put on her little boy's cap and coat, and run off with him."

  Saying these words, she had put on the child's simple outfit, and, taking him in her arms, glided noiselessly out.

  A few minutes brought them to the window of Uncle Tom's cabin, and Eliza stopped, tapping lightly on the window-pane.

  There had been a prayer-meeting at Uncle Tom's, and although it was now between eleven and twelve o'clock, he and his worthy helpmeet were not yet asleep.

  "Good Lord, what's that?" said Aunt Chloe, starting up and hastily drawing aside the curtain. "My sakes alive, if it ain't Lizy! Get on your clo'es, ole man, quick! I'm gwine to open the door."

  The door flew open, and the light of the tallow candle, which Tom had hastily lighted, fell on the haggard face and dark, wild eyes of the fugitive.

  "Lord bless you! I'm skeered to look at ye, Lizy! Are ye tuck sick, or what's come over ye?"

  "I'm running away, Uncle Tom, and Aunt Chloe—carrying off my child. Master sold him!"

  "Sold him?" echoed both, lifting up their hands in dismay.

  "Yes, sold him!" said Eliza, firmly. "I heard master tell missis that he had sold my Harry and you, Uncle Tom, both to a trader; and that the man was to take possession to-day."

  Tom had stood, during this speech, like a man in a dream. Slowly and gradually, as its meaning came over him, he sank on his chair, and dropped his head on his knees.

  "Oh, what has he done, that mas'r should sell him," said Aunt Chloe.

  "He hasn't done anything—it isn't for that. Master don't want to sell. I heard Missis beg for us, but he told her that if he didn't pay this

  "Well, ole man!" said Aunt Chloe, "why don't you go too? Will you wait to be toted down river, where they kill niggers with hard work and starving? There's time for ye to be off with Lizy. You've got a pass to come and go as you like any time."

  Tom slowly raised his head, and looked scornfully and quietly around, and said:

  "No, I ain't goin'. Let Eliza go—it's her right! I wouldn't be the one to say no—it ain't in natur for her to stay; but you heard what she said! If I must be sold, or all the people on the place, and everything go to rack, why, let me be sold. It's better for me alone to go than to break up the place, and sell all."

  "And now," said Eliza, "I saw my husband only this afternoon, and I little knew what was to come. They have pushed him to the very last standing place, and he told me to-day that he was going to run away. Do try, if you can, to get word to him. Tell him how I went, and why I went; and tell him I am going to try to find him in Canada."

  A few last words and tears, and, clasping her child in her arms, she glided noiselessly away.

  Mr. and Mrs. Shelby slept somewhat later than usual the following morning.

  "I wonder what keeps Eliza," said Mrs. Shelby, after giving her bell repeated pulls, to no purpose.

  Just then the door opened, and a colored boy entered with Mr. Shelby's shaving water.

  "Andy," said his mistress, "step to Eliza's door, and tell her I have rung for her three times."

  Andy soon returned, with eyes wide open in astonishment.

  "Lor, Missis! Lizy's bureau drawers is all open, and her things all lying every which way; and I believe she's jest done clared out!"

  "Then she suspected it, and has run away," said Mr. Shelby.

  "The Lord be thanked" exclaimed Mrs. Shelby. "I trust she has."

  There was great running and ejaculating, and opening and shutting of doors for about a quarter of an hour. When Haley at last appeared, booted and spurred, he was saluted with the bad tidings on every hand.

  "I say now, Shelby, this yer's most extro'rnary business!" said the trader, as he abruptly entered the parlor. "It seems that gal's off, with her young un. Cleared out completely."

  "Sir," said Mr. Shelby, "if you wish to communicate with me, you must observe something of the decorum of a gentleman. Yes, sir, I regret to say

  Tom's fate was the topic in every mouth, everywhere, and nothing was done in the house or in the field, but to discuss its probable results. Eliza's flight was also a great accessory in stimulating the general excitement.

  Black Sam was revolving the matter profoundly in all its phases and bearings. "It's an ill wind dat blows nowhar—dar ar a fact," said he. "Tom's down—wal, course dar's room for some nigger to be up—and why not dis nigger?—dat's de idee. Tom, a ridin' round de country—boots blacked—pass in his pocket—all grand as Cuffee—who but he? Now, why shouldn't Sam—at's what I want to know."

  "Halloo, Sam—O, Sam, mas'r wants Bill and Jerry geared right up; and you and I's to go with Mas'r Haley, to look arter Lizy," said Andy.

  "Good, now! dat's de time o' day!" said Sam. "It's Sam dat's called for in dese yer times. He's de nigger. See if I don't cotch her, now; mas'r see what Sam can do!"

  "Ah! but Sam," said Andy, "you'd better think twice; for missis don't want her cotched, and she'll be in yer wool."

  "High!" said Sam, opening his eyes. "How you know dat?"

  "I heard her say so, my own self, dis blessed mornin'. She sent me to see why Lizy didn't come to help her dress; and when I telled her she was gone, she jest ris up, and ses she, 'The Lord be praised.'"

  "Now, sartin, I'd a said that missis would a scoured the varsal world after Lizy," said Sam, thoughtfully.

  "So she would," said Andy; "but can't ye see through a ladder, ye black nigger? Missis don't want dis yer Mas'r Haley to git Lizy's boy; dat's de go!"

  Sam began to bestir himself, and after a while appeared with Bill and Jerry in full canter, and brought them up alongside of the horse post like a tornado. Haley's horse, which was a skittish young colt, winced, and bounced and pulled hard at his halter.

  "Ho, ho!" said Sam. "skeery, ar ye? I'll fix ye now," and on pretense of adjusting the saddle, he adroitly slipped under it a sharp little beech nut, in such a manner that the least weight brought upon the saddle would annoy the animal.

  "Dar," he said, with an approving grim; "me fix 'em!"

  At this moment, Mrs. Shelby appeared on the balcony. "Why have you been loitering so, Sam?" she said. "I sent Andy to tell you to hurry."

  "Lord bless you, missis," said Sam, "horses won't be cotched all in a minute. They done clared out to the south pasture when they saw me."

  "Well, Sam, you are to go with Mr. Haley, to show him the road, and to help him. Be careful of the horses, Sam; you know Jerry was a little lame last week; don't ride them too fast."

  Mrs. Shelby spoke the last words in a low voice, and with strong emphasis.

  "Let dis child alone for dat!" said Sam, rolling up his eyes with a volume of meaning.

  "Now, Andy," said Sam, "you see I wouldn't be at all surprised if dat ar gen' man's crittur should gib a fling, by and by, when he comes to be gettin' up. You see, Andy, if any such thing should happen as that Mas'r Haley's horse should begin to act contrary, and cut up, you and I jest lets go of our'n to help him, and we'll help him—oh, yes!"

  At this instant Haley appeared on the veranda. "Well, boys," said he, "look alive, now; we must lose no time."

  "Not a bit of him, mas'r!" said Sam, putting Haley's rein in his hand, and holding his stirrup, while Andy was untying the other two horses.

  The instant Haley touched the saddle, the mettlesome creature bounded from the earth with a sudden spring that threw his master sprawling on the soft, dry turf. Sam made a dive at the reins, but only succeeded in brushing his hat into the horse's eyes. He overturned Sam, and was soon prancing away toward the lower end of the lawn, followed by Bill and Jerry whom Andy had not failed to let loose, according to contract.

  Haley ran up and down, swearing and stamping. Mr. Shelby in vain tried to shout directions from the balcony, and Mrs. Shelby from her chamber window laughed and wondered. At last, about twelve o'clock, Sam appeared triumphant, mounted on Jerry, with Haley's horse by his side.

  "He's cotched!" he exclaimed. "If 't hadn't been for me, they might have bust theirselves, all on 'em; but I cotched him!"

  "You," growled Haley in no aimable mood. "If it hadn't been for you, this never would have happened."

  "Lord bless us, mas'r," said Sam, in a tone of deepest concern, "and me that has been racin' and chasin' till the swet jest pours off me!"

  "Well, well," said Haley, "you have lost me near three hours with your cursed nonsense. Now let's be off, and have no more fooling."

  Just at this moment, Mrs. Shelby came forward, and expressing her concern for Haley's accident, urged him to stay to dinner. Haley, with rather poor grace, proceeded to the parlor, while Sam, rolling his eyes after him with unutterable meaning, proceeded gravely with the horses to the stable.