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From (r ham's Magazine
RHHY &E OF THE ASPIRANT.
An the lime in tiim:ess dreaming,
I aJcend some rugged height,
And. through paths of golden seeming,
Wind tip steeps in search of light.
Deeds of - heroes. read in =tory,
Gi %e n nwonied to rise
While there -Feud, a flu-h ofgiory
Over all the northern
Earth and .tkc are both nni ed.
In the light th tt d INV ilelWe en
And to area - ter helLthts tits :tied,
I a-cetti vei i h joy ',retie.
An i the con:cionatr:•• of rim n~
throiii;ll airy :ie:d. ~ 1 11)
e • tip?. ‘vttli a siretigili
To the ,a-k, d ite.l'- we climb. ,
- I've to pait , e •Inii slumber,
Ere citinpelleti to Iv : . the nitr.ht,
I.est pie nt trot; number,
Rise tib tve me in thtir
Al the n61.1'111.1 grief,
I can hard y ,ecaring
Rich reward , . and glad relief.
in long and dramninz.
I -ome nigzed height,
And :hr .mlth pa..h: of _o den seeming;
IN"lnd lip >: , el) , in .earch ofiight,
And of ri4ing
Ihrozii:ll :dry fields
Ner , e- !no %%1111 a sirenzth ,oirpr;-inz
To the :a , k, and helps me eli•nb.
From the American Luio❑
:3E O_72.XE3S" PiIIOADCLOTLI
We—that is to say. an elderly lady,
younr , er one and myself—had taken
nr scat- in the morning train for the
we'', and were anxiously waiting to
hear the starting signal, when we
n,.ticed a youth of prepossing appear
ance; enter the car in search of a seat.
It - so happened that the only place
rrrnaining vacant, was next to my
The vc.lng man, perceiving this,
ro-pracioed and. in a hesitating
voice. asked wlthther the seat Was
taken. I had, in my selfishness, hoped
that no one would apply for this seat;
but utlx• pl4sengers were crowding in.
I th mve the young man a
Leg u:ve answer, as graciously as I
could. and in the next moment he was
seated at my side.
Our new companion was quite
yra.ti fid— ,ppart;atly just out of his
tc•';!s. He was remin kat*: handsome,
ha)iaz tkat delicate style of beauty,
herdt•ring upon femininity, so fre
,,nentlY met with, in our lat , ze cities.
lie wore a plain, neat :gilt td . rrray,
with an ordinary. leahorn hat, and
blown kid ;byes.
At brat he aS rather taciturn; but
we L-radually d: him into conversa
tion, and :Coon di • overed, from the
way he used the personal pronouns,
that he was of Quakei• ethicati on.
lie informed me that he was making a
little excur‘ion to the country, in
tendinz to leave the cars at Pottetton,
In the mountains. where he expected,
in a few days to be joined by a friend.
Ptierton was our destination, to,
we imp; oved acquaintance with the
young man; being lone comale tour
ist., with only a slight acTtainttnice
with the pr.gtriett r of the hotel at
Potterton, we felicitated ourselves
opon our go )d. fortune in liriultt g so
azteeable a cavalier.
When we arrived at Potterton we
were lucks- enough to In ocure pleas
tat acconimudations at the imorl.—
We made an excursion after tea,
along the railroad track,
thong through the mountain gofges ;
fatigued with Our car ride, we soon
returned to the hotel, and sought re
freshment in sleep.
Next morning when Mr. Hannah
!for that was the name of our friend)
Joined us . at the breakfast table, we
were surprised at the s.umptuousnasa
of his attire. He wore a dress coat of
dark blue cloth, and a buff cassimere
waistcoat, both of which were orua
merited with the richest gilt buttons,
one:, of the must intense
lusts.--drab doeskin je ye mis
alit; like a glove—and a black satin
era s at, tied in the most recherche man
ner. His waistcoat was particularly
Piquant, but in the military form; the
. . . .
. . . ... .
.. . . - .
I- ! - 1 . . .
TH ...,.. ._
.. 1 t • .
1... . .
• • - 't
. •..• . _
.j . ..- I.‘C :..,
. . .
upper half was worn unbuttoned to
display his neatly starched linen.—
The buttons extended in. a thickly
set tow from top to bottom, present
ing the appearance of little golden
mirrors, flashing in every change of
light. To borrow the frank language
of Miss Fanny Lee Townsend,
always had a penchant, for buff vests
with plain flat gilt buttons ;" it would,
therefore. be - disingenuous in me to
say that I did not admire the costume
of - lklr. Hannah. . -
And yet it was odd, I thought, to
see a Quaker so stylishly and gayly
attired. I had been under the im
pression that the Quaker gentlemen,
young or old, dressed in drab or snuff
colored coats of a peculiar and anti
quated fashion; but I now perceived
that I was laboring under a great
mistake. Living as we do in a pro
gressive age, we ought not to be
astonished at anything.
The change in our young friend's
attire seemed to have brought with it
a - corresponding change in his spirits.
He was in a merry mood fur the first
time since we had seen him. He had
slept soundly all night, .ai.d was in
raptures with the morning air of the
mountains The more we became
ac piainted with him, the better we
liked him. The very incongruity of
his Quaker -dialect and modish cos
tune made him interesting.; and he
secured our friendship. with warm
regard by the amiability of his dispm
i:i and his many other good qual
IL3 was conAnntly in
air enmpaily.: in fact we 14 ved him
as a brother.
OA the afternoon of the third day of
olr sojourn at. Putterton, a fine look
ing gentleman arrived in the western
train. The moment he stepped from
the platform, our Quaker friend ex
There he is!' and then, seizing
his hat, he hurried across the inter
vening ground to meet him half way.
They shook hands with more than
ordinary warmth ; alter which they-
came t,b , vether to the hotel, and %.vith
out stoppm2; on the uround floor,
proceeded on to Mr. Hannah's roc.m.
H :If - an hour afterward, our Qua
ker friend appeared at the parior
do-)r and made a to me to join
him: He remarked that havin.e., some
thin, important to communiente.
de•ired me to take a 51:ort walk with
good friend,' said he, after
we had Proceeded a few steps, 'I am
now g , ing to tell thee something
whi - ch will surprise thee. lamto be
marif.d within an hour.'
You are only jestincs,' I answered.
'Not at all,' lie c , ntinited. And
tLee will he more surprised at some
aim" el , e I have to sir.'
'Go on,' . I r •mark . ed, observing
that he hesitated.
'My kind f:iend,' said he, I have
offended. perhaps, beyond all hope of
forgiveness. Hat thou ever su-petted
me to be a woman in disguise?'
'Never. Why ?'
'Because I am a woman.'
Amazed beyond measure at this
disclosure. I was unable to say a word.
Be' merciful in judging re
sumed the voting Qu - fiker: as
sum'ed the 0-arb of a man, and desired
to be mistaken for a man; this is the
whole sum of my offense. In all the
conversations we have had, 1 never
spoke o 1 myself as a man. When my
name was asked. I gave that of • Han
nah,' which was no deception, because
Hannah Penrose is my name.'
' I know some. of the. Penroses,' I
'They are kinfolks of mine. But
'now as to my reasons -for assuming
this disguise. My affections have long
been given to the young man who
just arrived in the western cars. We
have known and loved. each other
from' our childhood. Unfortunately
Mr us, he is not connected with the
sn,-k-tv to which I belon.Y, and vet
our religions mews are almost iden
tical. lam an orphan, my friend, an
'.only child; and those with whoM I
live rre I.lr.vevering in their determi
. nation that i rh ll not marfy_ ont of
th e so c i et y. All my pleadings have
been in VU;11. I Lave been guarded,
ai d even ke.ut in durance when I was
:-11,necied . u2 a desire to see my dezir
e-Ciriend. But at length I aw an
opportunity Of escaping. I- v.-rote to
my friend in the west, apprising hits
of my intentions; and Lt. elude pur
suit. I a Burned tl a male attire, and
fled to this quiet place, where my
friend has met me agreeably to my
Hannah,' said I, ' you are a brave
girl, and deserve the best 'husband in
the land. If you desire it, I will
communicate your story to our friends
at the hotel.'
'Thank thee kindly;'- replied Han
nah. 'Now tell me frankly, before
we return, does thee love me any the
less fur my misconduct?! .• - •
'I love you moretban-ever:ilannab.'
DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF DEMOCRACY, AND THE DISSEMINATION OF MORALITY LITERATURE, AND NEWS
COUDERSPORT, POTTER COUNTY, P.N., NOVEMBER 30, 1854
I confess that .1 was a good deal
mortified to find that the youth in
whom I had taken such a deep inter
est, should turn out to be a _ counter
feit, or rather, that my discernment
had proved itself too obtuse to detect
the disguise. .B.tttHannah's ingenu
ous confession made me love her as a
woman even more than I had loved
her as a cavalier.
On our return to the house, we met
Mr. Lindley,,the intended of Hannah,
on the piazza. Leaving them togeth
er, I hastened to the parlor, and told
the wonderful news.
. Par Dieu! What a wonderful sen
sation it created! In an incredible
_short space of time every inmate of
the house was apprised of the roman
tic adventure of the young Quakeress.
'Let me perform *the Ceremony
instanter!' exclaimed Squire Potter,
our landlord, who was also justice of
the peace on commission.
Wait a, moment until I change my
clothes," said Miss Penrose, who, with
Mr. Lindley at that moment entered
'Be quick, then, Hannah,' remarked
Mr. Lindley. 'The eastern train may
be here in five minutes; and .it may
bring your Uncle, who might thwart
all Our hopes.'
Well thought of!! said the squire.
But what use is there in damning
your dress, 'iii Hannah ?. Be mar
ried just as yun are. You could n't
find a handsomer wedding dress than
the one - you have on, if you were to
search the word from Paris to Bag
dad. What do you say, ladies ?'
• It would be • so very odd,' was the
What say von, Mr. Lindh- r
I am quite said he.
'-And what you say, Miss Han-
If all are she answered,
',I will wear it with pleasure.'
Proceed then, with the ceremony.
squire,' said the grol;m.
The young couple stood np together
in the Lull Holland window euttains,
that mellowel 7 without intercepting the
rays of the declining sun. We had
never seen Hannah look so well. Her
.eves sparkled like diamonds, and her
novel wedding jewels—the pl3in hut
rich gilt huttons of her coat and waist
coat—were so effulgent that they al
most seemed to be in a blaze. The
squire NV 11S- riJit : her wedding suit
was more heel 'ming, perhaps, than any
costume she could have chosen. The
ceremony was a short one ; for the
ciVil functionary= isgenerally a man of
The congratulation; were scarcely
over before- the eastern train arrived ;
and sure enotio-h. an elderly Quaker
couple alighted, and lost 110 tinier in
directinq'their.steps toward the hotel.
uncle and aunt exclaimed
' Stand your ~ round, Hannah,' said
the squire, 'don't budge a peg they
can't molest you now.'
1 don't intend to run,' said she.
Where" is Hannah Penrose 1' stern
ly asked the old gentleman, as he pre
sented himself at the door arm in arni
With his wife.
Here !' promptly responded
bride, bravely.advancing towards the
' Art thou Hannah Penrose 1' de
manded the uncle, regarding her with
Hannah Pefirobe once. but Hannah
Then thou art married 1'
I am.' •
How long . ?'
About five minutes, perhaps.'
A mit;.= is just us good as a mile
Hannah, show us thy husband.' •
Mr. Lindley stepped up to Hannah's
'Friend,' said the old gentleman,
' thou bast found a good wife, and I
hope thee will provethyself worthy of
her. We were opposed to this marri
age, and hastened hither to prevent it;
but let by-,g-ones be by-goner. Give
me thy band,- friend.'
' And now, Hannah,' said the aunt,
give me thy hand, and let me Wish tip
thce and thine great joy.'
Is all ihrffiven—all forgotten,' re
plied the uncle.
Although -the old Quaker couple
were evidently chagrined at their fail
tire to prevent the marriag e, they
rightly concluded now that the knot
was tied, io contribute all they -could
to the happiness and prosperity of the
Aunt,' said Hannah, availing her
self of a pause in the general conver
sation, lam quite put out because
thee won't say a word about my wed
din,* dress.' .
'Hannah,' replied the aunt, thou
art a sad madcap to array thyself in
•' Well, I suppose I am,' returned
Hannah - , but don't thee,think I make_
a very captivating appearance in mate
attire)' . .
If thou welt a man, Hannah; I
might answer thee' affirmatively:
Well, never mind, dear auat ; I
will make the nii)st of my gilt buttons
to-day, and to-morrow I will resume
my female dress.' 7
Hannah fulfilled her promise. We
saw her next morning in a neat, brown
traveling dress entirely devoid of or
nament. She looked very pretty,
though .her feminine beauty was . a
good deal marred' by the masculine
cut of her hair. I liked her appear
ance better when she was dressed e
homme. She was a noble-looking,
loVe-inspiring cavalier, hut merely a
comely woman. -Dress makes a great
difference in one's appearan9e. - •
I have reason to believe that the.
uncle of the bride; who was likewise
her guardian,, made everything satis
factory 'to the young couple. They
all left Potterton in company, on the
day ensuing . the wedding, apparently
on most excellent terms with each
Gentle reader, in this.. little stOry I
have invented nothing except the
names of persons and. places. The
incidents , actually occurred jinzt. as I
have related them.
A NOVEL BY MS. STOWE.
CHLOE'S RECEPTION OF IDA
Such was the being who now ro=e
from her seat' beside the door, and
taking the pipe from her mouth. said,
with some appearance of culiosity,
• Hullo! what dat ? Beckon yer done
rub de white hen-roust dis and
a fiendish expression- passed over her I
face, as ...die stretched forth her :Hake
fingers, and burying them in the child's
curly hair, drewTher towards briself.
The act. and her frightful ap'earance,
caused Ida to cry Nvith, pain and terror.
There 'tis again,' said Bill: 'that's.•
just the way - it's been eve] y minute of
the time the gal's been awake since
we still ted. there, I tell
'Gosh! what's the good of telling
her to shot tip?' said Chloe. •Dey
s ailers cries dat war till yon nets 'em
broke in. Crying for your mammy ?'
she added addressing the child ; 'got
a roam uiv, aint ve r
'0 no! no!' • sobbed Ida: 'porir
mamma's dead. and papa's all alone.
odo let me go back to papa !' . -
ver mammy's dead,'' said.
Chloe;`wish she w for I knows
how she'd feel to see how she"d - cry!
0 wouldn't she _have ye totud off,
though !—and tear ifer hair, may he.
How I'd like to see her, wouldn't I ?
Ha-n't I seed de nigger w(turan cry
so when dere chiller) was to be ,toted
off to be sold?—don't I .remember
when dcv took my darter—O, don't 13
Sorry your -maramy's dead—got a
daddy. though, to feel bad. a'n't `•e ?'
(5, yes. Poorl) a ! Do, please.
take me home again,' and the child
'Shot up!—there,' said Bill. strik
ing her. 'Do you suppose Flt:stand
this yelling much longer ?'
'Gosh!' interrupted his companion.
what de use o' talkie'? jut give
her sommat to break her sperit ; dat
dey do de young rigs when•d , :y, cries
for their mammies. I'se Learn 'em
cry, and -een 't : in whipped for it,tnany
de tune; - and Pso hearn heaps o' white
buckra say dere nothin' like a:good
breakin-in, to save-trouble afterwards.
Dat's - whatdoes it—breaks dere sperit
and learns 'cm dere place.'
Zounds ! 1 declar, I believe it Will
be a first-rate plan,' said Bill, with an .
oath, and it may as Well be done now
as any time ; • for blame me, if the
little jade didn't try to get awaySeoznin'
up the - hill; and I'm tired of hearing
her yell ;'• and, as he spoke, he cut,
from the tree beside him a long• rod,
which he stripped of its leaves:and
swayed in' the air to prove its strength.
' Come here,' he added, seizing Ida
by the arm ; learn ye to mind.'
But the woman interposed: ' Let
me,' she said. 0 do! that's a nice
feller—ye don't knoiv the good•'I'll do
me. Don't 1 'member when de White
man flog my darter, my little rl, •dat
cried 'cause she was off from me, and
dev whipped u, bush till de blood run
down, to make her let go \ gown
0, do let me do it nuw---do
don't know the good it'll do me, just
to think of it !'
Take' it, then ; hut mind yourself
what you do,' said Bill, throwing
down his rod and releasing his hold of
0. don't whip me, don't !' cried
Ida ; I'll be good, I won't cry! 0,
don't whip the !'
I wants ye to cry—l likes to hear
ye—it's rnt,osic,' said the hag, pausing
With the rod uplifted, to eiijov her
agony of torture. 'Cry now,—cry
loud !'. and, as she spoke. the rod de
scended on the bare,. delicate shoul
ders. Cry, ye White wolf-Cub , !
ye white hear-whelp ! screani, ye little
. to bear ,ye, =
cur a* ay,--.1 . 11 make . ye pay for . the
bloo'd of my child,, where the whips
cut her And fast and heavily fell
the - blows on the arms and shoulders
of the victim, covering them with blue,
livid marks ; till suddenly, the shrieks
of the child topped, her struggles
ceased, and slie fell down at the feet
-of her tormentor.
All this had passed in a minute, and
Bill, who hat stood by, half amazed
and limit shocked at this burst of de
moniac fury, now sprung forward,
with an oath. and raised the child.
' You've‘killed her, you she-devil, I
do believe,' said he ; and, iudeed, she
lay in his ,arms as if dead, for this
terrific ordeal had been, too much for
that tender frame, so unused to suffer
ing.. She had fainted-. Chloe put
both-hands into a pail of water, that
stood outside the dour of her hut, and,
scooping some up, dashed it into Ma's
face, again and again, until she gasped
and opened her eves.
There, now,' said she, she's come
to. l'se glad she a'-it't dead. I don't
like ter have folks die—dat's too good,
de a'n't no pain in dut-1 likes to have
'em live, and, morewlder, I wants dis
little brat to live, so I can do it to_ruin.
wasn't it jolly to lier het yell !'
sh:s added. with a-chuckling lawrh.
'No ye duu.'t, old foul said Bill,
as she again appretched with tile rod,
as if about to carry out her cruel
sire ;. 'MI' ye don'tbands off ! I was
mad, or I wouldn't a let you whip her
at fir St. 'T wo:i't do to spiie property
this way, or Kelly 'll be in my hair.
Besides, she's mizrl,ty nigh dead, now
—see bow ,till she lays.'
Gozh ! dead, I reckon !' said Chloe.
Such a little Nyhipplii as dat won't
kill any yuuncr uu ! seen 'em bar
heap.more'n dat flire dey faints away,
down in • Carolina ; and dey don't
bring 'em to wid :water, ',eider, I
makes sure,— (ley: takes scanefun
stroM-Yer 'n feit it ?
don't de pickle put de hie iirto a nig
ger, who done hat a cuttin-up
' Hold you tongue, you brute !' re
plied Bill. White children a'n't to
treated like nigo-ers, a'n't dey, hey r
said the, other, with a grin that shotred
her toothless gums from ear to ear.
' Mighty Sight of difference dev 'll - be
'twerp dat littre brat in your arms,
and dem little 'Jiggers in de cave,
when ye gets 'em in dc. market.'.
' Well, hold ver ton , ue, any way
Hu sick wyer clack,' interrupted Bill,
and go into the house and get my
supper, and make some gruel like
you made for •me when 1 was Si c k
here—make it nice, old woman, fur 1
mean it shall do tliis little cretin- some
good. She a'n't eat enough to keep a
fly alive since we got her, arter all the
expense we've been at, we can't aflurd
to have her die on our hands.'
Chloe - reluctantly entered the hut
to obey this order, muttering to her
self' a nd li c ki ng her flabby hands, like
a hyena who had tasted blued, and' is
driven away from its prey. In a little
while Bill followed carrying the child,
who had not spelleii and hardly showed
anysi , c n of life, except by a low.
quick:breathiug.ard a convulsive shud
der that now and then pa-aed over
her. Laying her in-the rude bed that
stood - in one corner of the hut, he
berran to chafe her limbs, and force
her to swallow a little water, thr be
was now seriously alarmed lest she
she might die. She'd be worth a
cool five hundred to us,' he said, mourn
fully, ' beside being sich a:pretty little
thing, as makes me mist sorry fur her.'
Indeed, it would have moved a heart
of adamant - to have seen her as she
lay - helplessly on that heap of dirty
rags, with her long culls wet and
clinging round her face, her eyes wide
Open dud dim, as if- a mist was before
her sight, and her white neck and
arms bruised and disfigured with the
marks of violence. She alliiwed her
self with difficultf to be fed with the
grnel ; but she seemed not to know
who was feeding her, or be conscious
of anything that passed beside her
bed, and w) threats or entreaties could
: induce her to speak, or to close her
eyes in sleep. •
- Wearied out at length, Bill left her,
and,-seatinghiruself at a table, where
a hot corn cake and a rasher of bacon
Were now smoking, he consoled him
self for his fatigues and troubles by
a Plentiful repast. When he had fin : .
ished, he stretched himself before the
fire. I :wonder if HI have time to
take a' nap before Nick Kelly comes,'
hasn't once axed for de little
pigs in de cave,' said Chloe, with a
grin ; 'don't ye feel anxious bout dem
dear little creturs—c'r'aps dey wants
some gruel too.' •
Law, no,' replied. Bill E
safe enough when they're once in your
claws.' A body might as well try to
run away, from Satan as to get allay
froth you—no, danger of de niggers'
'But 11'1"N -is dey wants some gruel,'
persisted Chloe. Tell ye what, dc's
oried,for 'de mammy much as if dey
was white, and I'se had tc.i. carry in dis
ting more'n once, and I nebber see but—
it hurt nigger flesh just as 'quick as.
white flesh !' and she spoke as she took
from a shelf a stout cowhide and flour
ished it around.
' Get out, ye oldhag ! ye make me
sick—y don't seem to thii,k nothin
but whippin,‘ said Bill, with an oath.
bat's cause Pse seen so much of
it—it's been heat into me,' replied she.
! down on the sugar planta
tion is de place ; and I'll tell ye what,
said she earirestly; ' 'pears like I neb
ber see white beckra, or white child,
but what I want to get em someWhar,
and tie em up, and gib it to cm—'pears
like •twnuld do me good—•pears like
'twould pay me for de blood o'
darter, when she was holdin on ter my.
gown. and fhr all de blood- 'uts been
took out o' dis black carcass, in some
o' de cuttins-up I'se got.
'Now, I declare,' said gill, raising
lim,elf up and leaning . on one elbow,
'I knew you was about the wickedest
old hag that's managed to keep opt—
uf the fire ,down below, but I never
knew you quite equal to this evening.
What's clime over- ve-P
< It's dat child—dat cretur, "dads
done it,' said Chloe, shaking her cow- .
hide tow aids the- bed. 'I allus feel so
when I gets hold of a I.:ite young
•un. 'Pears like it bring all my whole
life up atbre me, to see de se little
waxy ungs days dressed up and took
sut..h care of, as if filet Nvazn't de same
flesh and blood as ni ,,, ers. 0, aint it
ten to Mid de y feelS jest de same tiugi
hurtin em dat niggers does -
Why, \Ora set, you un o against
white said Bill. never saw
a: you was treated worse than other
I . o l kN.'
alt•s de ting.' replied Chloe ea
ger]; ; ' days de berg tin_.. Et't was
me alone, I might link, as dev use tell
cause I was given. up to
and •witrse'n udder folks.
Btu I'Se buen in,many and seen
rmod many 10 my . people, and when
dev's best oft, dey's no Letter ofPn
dogs and -horses, dat's fed and played
wid tle massa dies, and dan sold
u::d when dev's bad off, de" Lord
knows dat's ball
• lint the rest of them don't feel so
hateful and 7o 60 so—why need you ?
You sal; yourself yon w:.:
date say, deserve all v:el
No 1 did n't, not all,' she replied.
What 'tight had dem ar 14kra make
me work f r notliin, and take my
len and sell em f- Tell ye what !--Pse
seen tiattsl- Seven little picininnies
bring. into this yer worie o' trouble,
and see era kicked and cuffed, 'and
limed. one way 'n odder, till dcv was
sold away from me, or I wa; sold away
from dent ; and my heart, 'pears like
'twits all tore and stuck full of thorns,
till .t -t when I knew my last child
was cumin, I goes out in de caTte
hreali-1, dat lab de little unborn 1) . 04
a heap .itc better •ti my life, and feels
a , if de child's mouth .u,:'-.in at my
brca't would draw a‘vr,v ur dreffle
HrlC7' . . her hand on
her heart—' I '.oes and kneels down
iu d e night, and prays de Lord dat de
liul cretur rear richer - draw de bref
You pray‘. said Bill, Nritb a sneer.
• I reckon de Lnrd would be a-tonished
to,seo you 011 your kpees now. You
pray, indeed ! a pretty hand ycu•d• ho
at it ! \\, - I,y - didn't you. kill it your
self, if you ielt so - bad • I've known
6m do it
I could WO replied Chloe.
1.:1 1 ,,v, , some of em dues, butl couldn't.
Ebert/ time I took it in my arms to
kill it, 'pears like all de strength red
nut o' me, and de little baby was
strongern I was.'
Then it lived, did it 1 said Bill.
The Lord did n't hear ye—'twant no
account, your prayer.`` .
ear_me, no she replied fiercely.
Dere aint notordiere ;lint nothin
but'de debil, and he had it all his own
way in dis yer country.
..No fear but_
he 11 llear when anybody calls him' .
Yes, I think - F(1,• said Bill. 'Any'
way, i 1• there is aes it he's some rela
tisn .0' yourn. What's the good o'
your b e i ng - ,;( 1 , ugly / 1 never saw a
ni.4. 7 .7er like you.'
Tl) e y‘ - all like me,' interrupted
Chloe, " onydey keeps it, catise dey's •
scarce oh de - white folks, and dey
purlends-- 7 dey intrteEda—i VS de
way to get along easy, is purtendin. _
But I neber could, more a little
while while at oncet—it went agin
me—somefun came up .in my throat
and choked me when I tried to cringe, '
and lie so mighty 'spectful, like de
white folks wants to hal) dere nid'Eers.
I alters was imperdent—p‘vaps 't.W11.3•
cause I had too much o' my white .
daddy in me. -• •
Bill burst into a loud laugh at thi.
last sally', and at the same moment the
form of tick Kelly appeared in the
.Solitude is dangerousto reason, with-
out being favorable to vit:;.e.