Uncle Tom's Cabin
George F. Rowe, for Messrs. Jarrett & Palmer
Printed for Private Circulation Only, 1878


Pair of flats in second grooves. Veranda of planter's house. Two French windows through which entrances are made. Curtains to drop.

(Enter Mr. Shelby with Haley, R. 1 E.

  HAL. I can't make a trade that way, Shelby; that's a fact.

  SHEL. But Tom is an uncommon fellow, Mr. Haley—worth twelve hundred dollars anywhere—steady, honest—

  HAL. You mean, as niggers go?

  SHEL. I mean honest, sensible and pious. As the phrase is, he got religion about four years ago, and since then I've trusted him with all I have.

  HAL. Wall, religion is a valeyable thing in a nigger, when it's the genuine article. I bought a pious darkey of a man last fall and realized six hundred on him.

  SHEL. Then take my word that Tom's piety is genuine, and you ought to let him cover the whole debt; and you would if you had any conscience, Haley.

  HAL. Look yar, Shelby, I've as much conscience as any business man can afford, but this 'ere is a leetle too hard on a chap.

  SHEL. Then what do you want?

  HAL. Well, haint you got a boy or a gal you could throw in with Tom?

  SHEL. None that I could part with, Mr. Haley.

(Music. Harry runs in from window, round stage, and up against Haley.

  HAL. Hello! whose young 'un is this?

(Eliza enters, and catches Harry up.

  ELIZA. Mine, Massa! My Harry!

  SHEL. Eliza!

  HAL. Your'n! Your master's, you mean—by the color on ye.

  SHEL. What do you want, Eliza? (uneasily.)

  ELIZA. Mrs. Shelby sent me, sir, to look for you.

  SHEL. Tell her I'll come soon; take Harry away.


  ELIZA. Away, yes sir. (To him) My darling, you are safe nowhere but in my arms. (Exit into house.)

  HAL. By Jupiter! that gal's a prime article! What will you take for her?

  SHEL. My wife would not part with her for her weight in gold—Mr. Haley.

  HAL. Ay, ay! women say them sort o' things, cos they aint got no sort o' calculation.

  SHEL. But in this case, I say no, also, and I mean it.

  HAL. Tell ye what, then, I'll stand ye eight hundred for the boy.

(Music. Eliza appears at window listening.

  SHEL. Bah! what can you do with the child?

  HAL. Wal, I've a friend going into that branch o' the bis'ness, raising handsome boys for market to sell for fancy waiters and valets to rich 'uns down South.

  SHEL. I'm a humane man, Haley, and I should hate to part the boy from his mother.

  HAL. I understand, and them screechin', screamin' times is mighty unpleasant anyhow; but, Lor' bless ye, these critters aint like white folks, and they gets over it, if you manage right; I knew I real handsome gal to Orleans, clean lost by rough handling; a feller named Legree was trading for her, and didn't want her baby, and I tell you she squeezed up that child in her arms, and went on awful; and when they parted 'em and locked her up, she just went ravin' mad, and died in a week. Downright waste of two thousand dollars. Yes, sir, I agree with you, humanity is the dodge. I'll give you eight hundred for that boy.

  SHEL. Don't tempt me, Haley. If my debts were not so pressing I would not even speak of it.

  HAL. And debt is the devil, aint it? It don't look well for a feller to be praising himself, but I'm considered to bring in the finest, fattest, and best tempered niggers in the trade. And how do I do it? Why, by humanity. I'll give you nine hundred for that boy.

  SHEL. No, no. I shall have some trouble with my wife about parting with Tom.

  HAL. But you couldn't help it! Throw in that boy, and there'll be a balance in your favor.

  SHEL. What my wife will say, I——

  HAL. Oh, send the mother out of the way, and do the thing quiet afore she comes back; then give her a new gown or a brace o' earrings. She'll soon forget the young 'un. Niggers are so easy pleased, ye know.

  SHEL. But my wife is not so easily pleased, though.

  HAL. Needs must when the devil drives.

  SHEL. The devil drives indeed and you are not an inapt illustration of your own proverb.

  HAL. Ha! ha! ha! You have your joke, and let me have the boy.


  SHEL. Confound you, Haley! you've got the whip hand of me; and you use it.

  HAL. With humanity, Squire—with humanity. Come into the house. Transfer Tom and that boy to me, and I'll give you back your notes of hand, and a roll of bank bills over and above that into the bargain.

  SHEL. Confound you, Haley, you'll make me soon as humane as—yourself.

  HAL. Ha! ha! ha! No salve for a sore conscience like ready money, Squire.


(They enter the parlor by one window as Eliza darts out with Harry by the other.)

(Stage gets darker.

  ELIZA. Cling to me, Harry! Cling to me, my boy! They are trading for you—my heart's darling, selling you from me—to part us like beasts in the field. Will Mrs. Shelby let them? On, how can she help it if Massa's in that trader's power. Poor Uncle Tom sold, too! I must go down to his cabin and break the dreadful news; find George, my husband—say goodbye to him—to all—and then, fly from this place. To save you, darling, I must risk everything, and I will! death even, ere they shall tear you from me!

(Music. Exit Eliza, R. 1 E.