No More Learning

In the same year (1852) Professor Stowe was called to Andover
Theological Seminary at Andover, Massachusetts. In 1853 the author
published a 'Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin, giving facts to substantiate
her slave story.
She made at this time the first of several European
trips, during which she was received abroad with marked respect and
honor. In 1864 the Stowes removed to Hartford, Connecticut, where
Mrs. Stowe resided until her death, July 1st, 1896. For a long term
of years she spent the summer months at her home in Florida.
Of the many editions of Mrs. Stowe's works, it is sufficient to
direct the reader to the final, authoritative, and complete Riverside
edition, 1896, issued by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. of Boston, in sixteen
volumes, with a biographical sketch, notes, portraits, and views. The
titles of the books, as they appear in this edition, are as follows:
Uncle Tom's Cabin' and the Key' (two volumes), “Dred and Other
Anti-Slavery Tales and Papers) (two volumes), «The Minister's Woo-
ing, “The Pearl of Orr's Island, Agnes of Sorrento,' (Household
Papers and Stories,' My Wife and I, Oldtown Folks' and (Sam
Lawson's Fireside Stories (two volumes), Poganuc Peopleand 'Pink
and White Tyranny,' We and Our Neighbors,' Stories, Sketches,
and Studies,' Religious Studies,' Sketches and Poems,' (Stories and
Sketches for the Young. A full sympathetic account of Mrs. Stowe
will be found in her Life,' written by her son, the Rev. Charles E.
Stowe, which Houghton, Mifflin & Co. also publish.
>


## p. 14074 (#264) ##########################################

14074
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
HOW SAM AND ANDY HELPED HALEY TO PURSUE ELIZA
From (Uncle Tom's Cabin
NY
EVER did fall of any prime minister at court occasion wider
surges of sensation than the report of Tom's fate among
his compeers on the place. It 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 - an
-
unprecedented event on the place --- was also a great accessory in
stimulating the general excitement.
Black Sam, as he was commonly called, from his being about
three shades blacker than any other son of ebony on the place,
was revolving the matter profoundly in all its phases and bear-
ings, with a comprehensiveness of vision and a strict lookout to
his own personal well-being, that would have done credit to any
white patriot in Washington.
“It's an ill wind dat blows nowhar,— dat are a fact,” said
Sam sententiously, giving an additional hoist to his pantaloons,
and adroitly substituting a long nail in place of a missing sus-
pender button, with which effort of mechanical genius he seemed
highly delighted.
« Yes: it's an ill wind blows nowhar," he repeated. Now,
dar, Tom's down; — wal, course der'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 ? dat's what I
want to know. ”
“Halloo, Sam! O Sam! Mas'r wants you to cotch Bill and
Jerry,” said Andy, cutting short Sam's soliloquy.
Hi! what's afoot now, young un? ”
“Why, you don't know, I s'pose, dat Lizy's cut stick and
clar'd out with her young-un ? "
"You teach your granny! ” said Sam with infinite contempt:
knowed it a heap sight sooner than you did; this nigger ain't
So green, now! »
Well, anyhow, Mas'r wants Bill and Jerry geared right up;
and you and I's to go with Mas'r Haley to look arter her. ”
"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 'll see what Sam can do! ”
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HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14075
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“Ah! but, Sam,” said Andy, "you'd better think twice; for
Missis don't want her cotched, and she 'll be in yer wool. ”
"Hi! ” said Sam, opening his eyes. "How you know dat ?
«Heard her say so, my own self, dis blessed inornin' when I
bring in Mas'r's shaving-water. She sent me to see why Lizy
didn't come to dress her: and when I telled her she was off,
she jest riz up, and ses she, “The Lord be praised;' and Masʼr,
he seemed rael mad, and ses he, Wife, you talk like a fool. '
But Lor! she'll bring him to! I knows well enough how that'll
be,- it's allers best to stand Missis's side de fence, now I tell
yer. ”
C
Black Sam, upon this, scratched his woolly pate, which, if it
did not contain very profound wisdom, still contained a great
deal of a particular species much in demand among politicians of
all complexions and countries, and vulgarly denominated know-
ing which side the bread is buttered ”; so stopping with grave
consideration, he again gave a hitch to his pantaloons, which was
his regularly organized method of assisting his mental perplex-
ities.
«Der ain't no sayin'. never – 'bout no kind o' thing in dis
yer world,” he said at last.
Sam spoke like a philosopher, emphasizing this,- as if he had
had a large experience in different sorts of worlds, and therefore
had come to his conclusions advisedly.
"Now, sartin I'd 'a' said that Missis would 'a' scoured the
'varsal world after Lizy,” added Sam thoughtfully.
"So she would,” said Andy; «but can't ye see through a lad-
der, ye black nigger? Missis don't want dis yer Mas'r Haley to
get Lizy's boy: dat's de go!
Hi! ” said Sam, with an indescribable intonation, known only
to those who have heard it among the negroes.
"And I'll tell yer more 'n all,” said Andy: "I spect you'd
better be making tracks for dem hosses, - mighty sudden, too, -
for I hearn Missis 'quirin' arter yer, so you've stood foolin' long
enough. ”
Sam, upon this, began to bestir himself in real earnest: and
after a while appeared, bearing down gloriously towards the
house, with Bill and Jerry in a full canter; and adroitly throwing
himself off before they had any idea of stopping, he 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.


## p. 14076 (#266) ##########################################

14076
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
((
“Ho, ho! ” said Sam: "skeery, are ye? ” and his black visage
lighted up with a curious, mischievous gleam. "I'll fix ye now! »
said he.
There was a large beech-tree overshadowing the place, and
the small, sharp, triangular beech-nuts lay scattered thickly on the
ground. With one of these in his fingers, Sam approached the
colt, stroked and patted, and seemed apparently busy in soothing
his agitation. On pretense of adjusting the saddle, he adroitly
slipped under it the sharp little nut, in such a manner that the
least weight brought upon the saddle would annoy the nervous
sensibilities of the animal, without leaving any perceptible graze
or wound.
« Dar! ” he said, rolling his eyes with an approving grin, "me
ix em ! »
At this moment Mrs. Shelby appeared on the balcony, beckon-
ing to him. Sam approached with as good a determination to
pay court as did ever suitor after a vacant place at St. James's
or Washington.
“Why have you been loitering so, Sam ? I sent Andy to tell
you to hurry. ”
“Lord bless you, Missis! ” said Sam, horses won't be cotched
all in a minnit: they'd done clar'd out way down to the south
pasture, and the Lord knows whar! »
“Sam, how often must I tell you not to say 'Lord bless you,'
and The Lord knows,' and such things ? It's wicked. ”
« Oh, Lord bless my soul! I done forgot, Missis! I won't
say nothing of de sort no more. ”
"Why, Sam, you just have said it again. ”
“Did I? O Lord! -I mean, I didn't go fur to say it. ”
“You must be careful, Sam.
“Just let me get my breath, Missis, and I'll start fair. I'll be
bery careful. ”
"Well, Sam, you are to go with Mr. Haley, to show him the
road, and 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 with a low voice and strong
emphasis.
“Let dis child alone for dat! ” said Sam, rolling up his eyes
with a volume of meaning. "Lord knows— hi! didn't say dat! ”
said he, suddenly catching his breath, with a ludicrous fourish
of apprehension which made his inistress laugh, spite of herself.
“Yes, Missis, I'll look out for de hosses! »
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## p. 14077 (#267) ##########################################

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14077
-
“Now, Andy,” said Sam, returning to his stand under the
beech-tree, "you see I wouldn't be 't all surprised if dat ar
gen'lman's crittur should gib a Aling, by-and-by, when he comes
to be a-gettin' up. You know, Andy, critturs will do such
things; " and therewith Sam poked Andy in the side in a highly
suggestive manner.
«Hi! ” said Andy, with an air of instant appreciation.
“Yes, you see, Andy, Missis wants to make time: dat ar's
clar to der most or'nary 'bserver. I jis make a little for her.
Now, you see, get all dese yer hosses loose, caperin' permiscus
round dis yer lot and down to de wood dar, and I spec Mas'r
won't be off in a hurry. ”
Andy grinned.
“Yer see,” said Sam,-"yer see, Andy, if any such thing
should happen as that Masʼr Haley's horse should begin to act
contrary, and cut up, you and I jist lets go of our'n to help him,
and we'll help him: oh, yes! ” And Sam and Andy laid their
heads back on their shoulders, and broke into a low, immoder-
ate laugh, snapping their fingers and flourishing their heels with
exquisite delight.
At this instant, Haley appeared on the veranda. Somewhat
mollified by certain cups of very good coffee, he came out smil-
ing and talking, in tolerably restored humor. Sam and Andy,
clawing for certain fragmentary palm-leaves which they were in
the habit of considering as hats, flew to the horse-posts to be
ready to help Mas'r. ”
Sam's palm-leaf had been ingeniously disentangled from all
pretensions to braid, as respects its brim; and the slivers starting
apart and standing upright gave it a blazing air of freedom and
defiance, quite equal to that of any Fiji chief: while the whole
brim of Andy's being departed bodily, he rapped the crown on
his head with a dexterous thump, and looked about well pleased,
as if to say, “Who says I haven't got a hat! ”
"Well, boys,” said Haley, 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 creat-
ure bounded from the earth with a sudden spring, that threw his
master sprawling some feet off on the soft, dry turf. Sam, with
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## p. 14078 (#268) ##########################################

14078
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
frantic ejaculations, made a dive at the reins, but only succeeded
in brushing the blazing palmleaf afore-named into the horse's
eyes, which by no means tended to allay the confusion of his
nerves. So with great vehemence he overturned Sam, and giv-
ing two or three contemptuous snorts, flourished his heels vigor-
ously in the air, and was soon prancing away towards the lower
end of the lawn; followed by Bill and Jerry, whom Andy had
not failed to let loose according to contract, speeding them off
with various direful ejaculations. And now ensued a miscellaneous
scene of confusion. Sam and Andy ran and shouted; dogs barked
here and there; and Mike, Mose, Mandy, Fanny, and all the
smaller specimens on the place, both male and female, raced,
clapped hands, whooped, and shouted, with outrageous officious-
ness and untiring zeal.
Haley's horse, which was a white one, and very fleet and
spirited, appeared to enter into the spirit of the scene with great
gusto: and having for his coursing ground a lawn of nearly half
a mile in extent, gently sloping down on every side into indefi-
nite woodland, he appeared to take infinite delight in seeing how
near he could allow his pursuers to approach him; and then,
when within a hand's-breadth, whisk off with a start and a snort,
like a mischievous beast as he was, and career far down into
some alley of the wood-lot. Nothing was further from Sam's
mind than to have any one of the troop taken until such season
as should seem to him most befitting; and the exertions that he
made were certainly most heroic. Like the sword of Cæur de
Lion, which always blazed in the front and thickest of the battle,
Sam's palm-leaf was to be seen everywhere when there was the
least danger that a horse could be caught: there he would bear
down full tilt, shouting, “Now for it! cotch him! cotch him! »
in a way that would set everything to indiscriminate rout in a
moment.
Haley ran up and down, and cursed and swore and stamped
miscellaneously. Mr. Shelby in vain tried to shout directions
from the balcony, and Mrs. Shelby from her chamber window
alternately laughed and wondered; not without some inkling of
what lay at the bottom of all this confusion.
At last, about twelve o'clock, Sam appeared triumphant,
mounted on Jerry, with Haley's horse by his side, reeking with
sweat, but with flashing eyes and dilated nostrils, showing that
the spirit of freedom had not yet entirely subsided.
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## p. 14079 (#269) ##########################################

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14079
»
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“He's cotched! ” he exclaimed triumphantly. "If 't hadn't
been for me, they might 'a' bust theirselves, all on 'em; but I
;
cotched him! ”
« You! » growled Haley, in no amiable mood. “If it hadn't
”
been for you this never would have happened. ”
« Lord bless us, Mas'r,” said Sam, in a tone of the deepest
concern, “and me that has been racin' and chasin' till the sweat
jest pours off me! ”
« Well, well! ” said Haley, "you've lost me near three hours
with your cursed nonsense. Now let's be off, and have no more
fooling. ”
“Why, Masʼr,” said Sam in a deprecating tone, "I believe
you mean to kill us all clar, hosses and all. Here we
are all
jest ready to drop down, and the critturs all in a reek of sweat.
Why, Mas'r won't think of startin' on now till after dinner.
Mas'r's hoss wants rubbin' down,- see how he splashed hissef;
and Jerry limps too; - don't think Missis would be willin' to
have us start dis yer way, nohow. Lord bless you, Mas'r, w
can ketch up if we do stop. Lizy never was no great of a
walker. ”
Mrs. Shelby, who, greatly to her amusement, had overheard
this conversation from the veranda, now resolved to do her part.
She came forward, and courteously expressing her concern for
Haley's accident, pressed him to stay to dinner, saying that the
cook should bring it on the table immediately.
Thus, all things considered, Haley with rather an equivocal
grace proceeded to the parlor; while Sam, rolling his eyes after
him with unutterable meaning, proceeded gravely with the horses
to the stable-yard.
"Did yer see him, Andy ? did yer see him ? ” said Sam, when
he had got fairly beyond the shelter of the barn, and fastened
the horse to a post. "O Lord, if it warn't as good as a meetin',
now, to see him a-dancin' and kickin' and swarin' at us. Didn't
I hear him? Swar away, ole fellow, says I to myself; will yer
have yer hoss now, or wait till you cotch him ? says I. Lord,
Andy, I think I can see him now. ” And Sam and Andy leaned
up against the barn, and laughed to their hearts' content.
"Yer oughter seen how mad he looked when I brought the
hoss up. Lord, he'd 'a' killed me if he durs' to; and there I
was a-standin' as innercent and as humble. »
" Lord, I seed you,” said Andy: “ain't you an old hoss, Sam! ”
»
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## p. 14080 (#270) ##########################################

14080
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
c
“Rather spects I am,” said Sam: “did yer see Missis up-stars
at the winder? I seed her laughin'. ”
“I'm sure I was racin' so I didn't see nothin',” said Andy.
"Well, yer see,” said Sam, proceeding gravely to wash down
Haley's pony, « l'se 'quired what ye may call a habit o' bobserva-
tion, Andy. It's a very 'portant habit, Andy, and I 'commend
yer ter be cultivatin' it, now ye're young. Hist up that hind foot,
Andy. Yer see, Andy, it's bobservation makes all de difference
in niggers. Didn't I see which way the wind blew dis yer morn-
in'? Didn't I see what Missis wanted, though she never let on?
Dat ar's bobservation, Andy. I spects it's what you may call a
faculty. Faculties is different in different peoples, but cultivation
of 'em goes a great way. ”
"I guess if I hadn't helped your bobservation dis mornin', yer
wouldn't have seen your way so smart,” said Andy.
"Andy,” said Sam, you's a promisin' child, der ain't no
manner o doubt. I think lots of yer, Andy; and I don't feel
noways ashamed to take idees from you. We oughtenter over-
look nobody, Andy, 'cause the smartest on us gets tripped up
sometimes. And so, Andy, let's go up to the house now. I'll be
boun' Missis 'll give us an uncommon good bite dis yer time. ”
ELIZA'S FLIGHT
From (Uncle Tom's Cabin)
T
IL
is impossible to conceive of a human creature more wholly
desolate and forlorn than Eliza, when she turned her footsteps
from Uncle Tom's cabin.
Her husband's suffering and dangers, and the danger of her
child, all blended in her mind with a confused and stunning
sense of the risk she was running in leaving the only home
she had ever known, and cutting loose from the protection of a
friend whom she loved and revered. Then there was the parting
from every familiar object: the place where she had grown up,
the trees under which she had played, the groves where she
had walked many an evening in happier days, by the side of her
young husband, - everything, as it lay in the clear, frosty starlight,
seemed to speak reproachfully to her, and ask her whither she
could go from a home like that?


## p. 14081 (#271) ##########################################

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14081
But stronger than all was maternal love, wrought into a
paroxysm of frenzy by the near approach of a fearful danger.
Her boy was old enough to have walked by her side, and in an
indifferent case she would only have led him by the hand; but
now the bare thought of putting him out of her arms made her
shudder, and she strained him to her bosom with a convulsive
grasp as she went rapidly forward.
The frosty ground creaked beneath her feet, and she trembled
at the sound; every quaking leaf and fluttering shadow sent the
blood backward to her heart, and quickened her footsteps. She
wondered within herself at the strength that seemed to be come
upon her; for she felt the weight of her boy as if it had been a
feather, and every flutter of fear seemed to increase the super-
natural power that bore her on, while from her pale lips burst
forth in frequent ejaculations the prayer to a Friend above:
"Lord, help! Lord, save me! »
If it were your Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going
to be torn from you by a brutal trader to-morrow morning,— if
you had seen the man, and heard that the papers were signed
and delivered, and you had only from twelve o'clock till morning
to make good your escape, — how fast could you walk? How
many miles could you make in those few brief hours, with the
darling at your bosom, the little sleepy head on your shoulder,
the small soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck ?
For the child slept. At first the novelty and alarm kept
him waking; but his mother so hurriedly repressed every breath
or sound, and so assured him that if he were only still she would
certainly save him, that he clung quietly round her neck, only
asking as he found himself sinking to sleep :-
"Mother, I don't need to keep awake, do I ? ”
“No, my darling: sleep if you want to. ”
“But, mother, if I do get asleep, you won't let him get
me ? »
“No! so may God help me! ” said his mother, with a paler
cheek, and a brighter light in her large dark eyes.
“You're sure, ain't you, mother ? ”
« Yes, sure! ” said the mother, in a voice that startled herself
— for it seemed to her to come from a spirit within, that was
no part of her; and the boy dropped his little weary head on
her shoulder and was soon asleep. How the touch of those warm
XXIV—881


## p. 14082 (#272) ##########################################

14082
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
arms, and gentle breathings that came in her neck, seemed to
add fire and spirit to her movements! It seemed to her as if
strength poured into her in electric streams from every gentle
touch and movement of the sleeping, confiding child. Sublime
is the dominion of the mind over the body, that for a time can
make flesh and nerve impregnable, and string the sinews like
steel, so that the weak become so mighty.
The boundaries of the farm, the grove, the wood-lot, passed
by her dizzily, as she walked on; and still she went, leaving one
familiar object after another, slacking not, pausing not, till red-
dening daylight found her many a long mile from all traces of
any familiar objects upon the open highway.
She had often been with her mistress to visit some connec-
tions in the little village of T—, not far from the Ohio River;
and knew the road well. To go thither, to escape across the
Ohio River, were the first hurried outlines of her plan of escape;
beyond that, she could only hope in God,
When horses and vehicles began to move along the highway,
with that alert perception peculiar to a state of excitement, and
which seems to be a sort of inspiration, she became aware that
her headlong pace and distracted air might bring on her remark
and suspicion. She therefore put the boy on the ground; and
adjusting her dress and bonnet, she walked on at as rapid a
pace as she thought consistent with the preservation of appear-
ances. In her little bundle she had provided a store of cakes and
apples, which she used as expedients for quickening the speed
of the child; rolling the apple some yards before them, when the
boy would run with all his might after it: and this ruse, often
repeated, carried them over many a half-inile.
After a while they came to a thick patch of woodland,
through which murmured a clear brook. As the child complained
of hunger and thirst, she climbed over the fence with him; and
sitting down behind a large rock which concealed them from the
road, she gave him a breakfast out of her little package. The
boy wondered and grieved that she could not eat; and when,
putting his arms round her neck, he tried to wedge some of his
cake into her mouth, it seemed to her that the rising in her
throat would choke her.
“No, no, Harry darling! mother can't eat till you are safe!
We must go on — on— till we come to the river! » And she


## p. 14083 (#273) ##########################################

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14083
hurried again into the road, and again constrained herself to
walk regularly and composedly forward.
She was many miles past any neighborhood where she was
personally known. If she should chance to meet any who knew
her, she reflected that the well-known kindness of the family
would be of itself a blind to suspicion, as making it an unlikely
supposition that she could be a fugitive. As she was also SO
white as not to be known as of colored lineage, without a critical
survey, and her child was white also, it was much easier for her
to pass on unsuspected.
On this presumption, she stopped at noon at a neat farm-
house, to rest herself and buy some dinner for her child and
self; for as the danger decreased with the distance, the super-
natural tension of the nervous system lessened, and she found
herself both weary and hungry.
The good woman, kindly and gossiping, seemed rather pleased
than otherwise with having somebody come in to talk with,
and accepted without examination Eliza's statement that she was
going on a little piece, to spend a week with her friends ”: all
which she hoped in her heart might prove strictly true.
An hour before sunset she entered the village of T, by
the Ohio River, weary and footsore but still strong in heart.
Her first glance was at the river, which lay, like Jordan, between
her and the Canaan of liberty on the other side.
It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and tur-
bulent; great cakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and
fro in the turbid waters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore
on the Kentucky side, the land bending far out into the water,
the ice had been lodged and detained in great quantities; and
the narrow channel which swept round the bend was full of ice,
piled one cake over another, thus forming a temporary barrier
to the descending ice, which lodged and formed a great undu-
lating raft, filling up the whole river and extending almost to the
Kentucky shore.
Eliza stood for a moment contemplating this unfavorable as.
pect of things, which she saw at once must prevent the usual
ferry-boat from running; and then turned into a small public
house on the bank to make a few inquiries.
The hostess, who was busy in various fizzing and stewing
operations over the fire, preparatory to the evening meal, stopped


## p. 14084 (#274) ##########################################

14084
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
(
W
with a fork in her hand, as Eliza's sweet and plaintive voice
arrested her.
“What is it? ” she said.
“Isn't there any ferry or boat that takes people over to B—
now? ” she said.
“No, indeed! ” said the woman: “the boats has stopped run-
ning. ”
Eliza's look of dismay and disappointment struck the woman,
and she said inquiringly:-
“Maybe you're wanting to get over ? Anybody sick? Ye
seem mighty anxious !
I've got a child that's very dangerous,” said Eliza. “I never
heard of it till last night, and I've walked quite a piece to-day,
in hopes to get to the ferry. ”
"Well, now, that's onlucky,” said the woman, whose motherly
sympathies were much aroused: "I'm re'lly consarned for ye.
Solomon! ” she called from the window towards a small back
building. A man in leather apron and very dirty hands appeared
at the door.
"I say, Sol,” said the woman, “is that ar man going to tote
them bar'ls over to-night ? »
“He said he should try, if 'twas anyway prudent," said the
man.
“There's a man a piece down here that's going over with
some truck this evening, if he durs' to; he'll be in here to sup-
per to-night, so you'd better set down and wait. That's a sweet
little fellow,” added the woman, offering him a cake.
But the child, wholly exhausted, cried with weariness.
« Poor fellow! he isn't used to walking, and I've hurried him
on so,” said Eliza.
»
"Well, take him into this room," said the woman, opening into
a small bedroom, where stood a comfortable bed. Eliza laid the
weary boy upon it, and held his hands in hers till he was fast
asleep. For her there was no rest. As a fire in her bones, the
thought of the pursuer urged her on; and she gazed with longing
eyes on the sullen, surging waters that lay between her and lib-
erty.
Here we must take our leave of her for the present, to follow
the course of her pursuers.
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## p. 14085 (#275) ##########################################

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14085
AT two o'clock Sam and Andy brought the horses up to the
posts, apparently greatly refreshed and invigorated by the scam-
per of the morning.
Sam was there, new oiled from dinner, with an abundance of
zealous and ready officiousness. As Haley approached, he was
boasting in flourishing style to Andy of the evident and emi-
nent success of the operation, now that he had “farly come to
it. ”
“Your master, I s'pose, don't keep no dogs? ” said Haley
thoughtfully, as he prepared to mount.
« Heaps on 'em,” said Sam triumphantly: “thar's Bruno - he's
a roarer! and besides that, 'bout every nigger of us keeps a pup
of some natur or other. »
« Poh! ” said Haley,- and he said something else too, with
regard to the said dogs; at which Sam muttered:-
“I don't see no use cussin' on 'em, noway. ”
“But your master don't keep no dogs (I pretty much know
he don't) for trackin' out niggers ? »
Sam knew exactly what he meant, but he kept on a look of
earnest and desperate simplicity.
“Our dogs all smells round consid'able sharp. I spect they's
the kind, though they hain't never had no practice. They's far
dogs, though, at most anything, if you'd get 'em started. Here,
Bruno," he called, whistling to the lumbering Newfoundland, who
came pitching tumultuously toward them.
«You go hang! ” said Haley, getting up. «Come, tumble up
now. ”
Sam tumbled up accordingly, dexterously contriving to tickle
Andy as he did so; which occasioned Andy to split out into a
laugh, greatly to Haley's indignation, who made a cut at him
with his riding-whip.
“I 's 'stonished at yer, Andy,” said Sam with awful gravity;
“this yer's a seris bisness, Andy. Yer mustn't be a-makin' game.
a
This yer ain't no way to help Mas'r. ”
"I shall take the straight road to the river,” said Haley de-
cidedly, after they had come to the boundaries of the estate. «I
know the way of all of 'em: they makes tracks for the under-
ground. ”
«Sartin,” said Sam, "dat's de idee. Mas'r Haley hits de thing
right in de middle.
Now der's two roads to de river,- de dirt
road and der pike: which Mas'r mean to take? ”
c
(C


## p. 14086 (#276) ##########################################

14086
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
»
((
»
Andy looked up innocently at Sam, surprised at hearing this
new geographical fact; but instantly confirmed what he said by a
vehement reiteration.
“ 'Cause,” said Sam, “I'd rather be 'clined to 'magine that Lizy
'd take de dirt road, bein' it's the least traveled. ”
Haley, notwithstanding that he was a very old bird, and nat.
urally inclined to be suspicious of chaff, was rather brought up
by this view of the case.
“If yer warn't both on yer such cussed liars, now! ” he said
contemplatively, as he pondered a moment.
The pensive, reflective tone in which this was spoken appeared
to amuse Andy prodigiously, and he drew a little behind, and
shook so as apparently to run a great risk of falling off his horse;
while Sam's face was immovably composed into the most doleful
gravity.
“Course,” said Sam, “Mas'r can do as he'd ruther; go de
straight road, if Mas'r thinks best,- it's all one to us.
Now
when I study 'pon it, I think the straight road the best, derid-
edly. ”
“She would naturally go a lonesome way,” said Haley, think-
ing aloud, and not minding Sam's remark.
«Dar ain't no sayin',” said Sam: "gals is pecular: they never
does nothin' ye thinks they will; mose gen'lly the contrar. Gals
is nat'lly made contrary; and so if you thinks they've gone one
road, it is sartin you'd better go t'other, and then you'll be sure
to find 'em. Now my private 'pinion is, Lizy took der dirt road;
so I think we'd better take de straight one. ”
This profound generic view of the female sex did not seem
to dispose Haley particularly to the straight road; and he an-
nounced decidedly that he should go the other, and asked Sam
when they should come to it.
"A little piece ahead,” said Sam, giving a wink to Andy with
the eye which was on Andy's side of the head; and he added
gravely, “but I've studied on the matter, and I'm quite clar we
ought not to go dat ar way. I nebber been over it noway. It's
despit lonesome, and we might lose our way: whar we'd come to,
de Lord only knows.
“Nevertheless,” said Haley, "I shall go that way. ”
«Now I think on 't, I think I hearn 'em tell dat ar road
was all fenced up and down by der creek, and thar - ain't it,
Andy? ”
>
»


## p. 14087 (#277) ##########################################

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14087
Andy wasn't certain; he'd only “hearn tell about that road,
but never been over it. In short, he was strictly non-committal.
Haley, accustomed to strike the balance of probabilities be-
tween lies of greater or lesser magnitude, thought that it lay in
favor of the dirt road aforesaid. The mention of the thing he
thought he perceived was involuntary on Sam's part at first, and
his confused attempts to dissuade him he set down to a desperate
lying on second thoughts, as being unwilling to implicate Eliza.
When therefore Sam indicated the road, Haley plunged
briskly into it, followed by Sam and Andy.
Now the road, in fact, was an old one that had formerly
been a thoroughfare to the river, but abandoned for many years
after the laying of the new pike. It was open for about an
.
hour's ride, and after that it was cut across by various farms and
fences. Sam knew this fact perfectly well: indeed, the road had
been so long closed up that Andy had never heard of it. He
therefore rode along with an air of dutiful submission, only groan-
ing and vociferating occasionally that 'twas "desp't rough, and
bad for Jerry's foot. ”
“Now I jest give yer warning,” said Haley, “I know yer:
yer won't get me to turn off this yer road, with all yer fussin';
so you shet up! ”
"Mas'r will go his own way! ” said Sam with rueful submis-
sion; at the same time winking most portentously to Andy,
whose delight was now very near the explosive point.
Sam was in wonderful spirits; professed to keep a very brisk
lookout: at one time exclaiming that he saw "a gal's bonnet
on the top of some distant eminence, or calling to Andy «if
that thar wasn't Lizy down in the hollow"; always making these
exclamations in some rough or craggy part of the road, where
the sudden quickening of speed was a special inconvenience to
all parties concerned, and thus keeping Haley in a state of con-
stant commotion.
After riding about an hour in this way, the whole party
made a precipitate and tumultuous descent into a barnyard be-
longing to a large farming establishment. Not a soul was in
sight, all the hands being employed in the fields; but as the
barn stood conspicuously and plainly square across the road, it
was evident that their journey in that direction had reached a
decided finale.


## p. 14088 (#278) ##########################################

14088
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
C
Warn't dat ar what I telled Mas'r? ” said Sam, with an air
of injured innocence. «How does strange gentlemen spect to
know more about a country dan de natives born and raised ? ”
“You rascal! ” said Haley, "you knew all about this. ”
"Didn't I tell yer I know'd, and yer wouldn't believe me? I
telled Mas'r 'twas all shet up, and fenced up, and I didn't spect
we could get through: Andy heard me. ”
It was all too true to be disputed, and the unlucky man had
to pocket his wrath with the best grace he was able; and all
three faced to the right about, and took up their line of march
for the highway.
In consequence of all the various delays, it was about three-
quarters of an hour after Eliza had laid her child to sleep in
the village tavern that the party came riding into the same place.
Eliza was standing by the window, looking out in another di-
rection, when Sam's quick eye caught a glimpse of her. Haley
and Andy were two yards behind. At this crisis Sam contrived
to have his hat blown off, and uttered a loud and characteristic
ejaculation, which startled her at once; she drew suddenly back:
the whole train swept by the window round to the front door.
A thousand lives seemed to be concentrated in that one
moment to Eliza. Her room opened by a side door to the river.
She caught her child, and sprang down the steps towards it. The
trader caught a full glimpse of her, just as she was disappearing
down the bank; and throwing himself from his horse, and calling
loudly on Sam and Andy, he was after her like a hound after
a deer. In that dizzy moment her feet to her scarce seemed to
touch the ground, and a moment brought her to the water's edge.
Right on behind they came; and nerved with strength such as
God gives only to the desperate, with one wild cry and flying leap
she vaulted sheer over the turbid current by the shore on to
the raft of ice beyond. It was a desperate leap,- impossible to
anything but madness and despair; and Haley, Sam, and Andy
instinctively cried out, and lifted up their hands as she did it.
The huge green fragment of ice on which she alighted, pitched
and creaked as her weight came on it; but she stayed there
not a moment.
With wild cries and desperate energy she leaped
to another and still another cake; stumbling — leaping -- slipping
- springing upwards again! Her shoes were gone, her stockings
cut from her feet, while blood marked every step; but she saw


## p. 14089 (#279) ##########################################

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
14089
nothing, felt nothing, till dimly, as in a dream, she saw the Ohio
side, and a man helping her up the bank.
“Yer a brave gal, now, whoever ye are! ” said the man with
an oath.
Eliza recognized the voice and face of a man who owned a
farm not far from her old home.
«O Mr. Symmes!
- do save
me — do hide me! ”
said Eliza.
“Why, what's this? ” said the man. «Why, if 't ain't Shelby's
save
me
gal! »
>
((
>>
"My child! – this boy! - he'd sold him! There is his Mas'r, "
said she, pointing to the Kentucky shore. “O Mr. Symmes,
you've got a little boy! ”
" So I have,” said the man, as he roughly but kindly drew
her up the steep bank. “Besides, you're a right brave gal. I
like grit wherever I see it. ”
When they had gained the top of the bank, the man paused.
“I'd be glad to do something for ye,” said he; “but then there's
nowhar I could take ye. The best I can do is to tell ye to go
thar,” said he, pointing to a large white house which stood by
itself, off the main street of the village. “Go thar: they're kind
folks. Thar's no kind of danger but they'll help you: they're up
to all that sort o' thing. ”
« The Lord bless you! ” said Eliza earnestly.
«
“No 'casion, no 'casion in the world," said the man.
( What
I've done's of no 'count. ”
"And oh, surely, sir, you won't tell any one! ”
"Go to thunder, gal! What do you take a feller for ? In
course not,” said the man. “Come, now, go along like a likely,
sensible gal, as you are. You've arnt your liberty; and you shall
have it, for all me. ”
The woman folded her child to her bosom, and walked firmly
and swiftly away. The man stood and looked after her. .
“Shelby, now, mebbe won't think this yer the most neighborly
thing in the world; but what's a feller to do? If he catches one
of my gals in the same fix, he's welcome to pay back. Some-
how I never could see no kind o’critter a-strivin' and pantin',
and tryin' to cl’ar theirselves, with the dogs arter 'em, and go
agin 'em.