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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 531 pages of information about Uncle Tom's Cabin.

“O, ye poor crittur!” said Tom, “han’t nobody never telled ye how the Lord Jesus loved ye, and died for ye?  Han’t they telled ye that he’ll help ye, and ye can go to heaven, and have rest, at last?”

“I looks like gwine to heaven,” said the woman; “an’t thar where white folks is gwine?  S’pose they’d have me thar?  I’d rather go to torment, and get away from Mas’r and Missis.  I had so,” she said, as with her usual groan, she got her basket on her head, and walked sullenly away.

Tom turned, and walked sorrowfully back to the house.  In the court he met little Eva,—­a crown of tuberoses on her head, and her eyes radiant with delight.

“O, Tom! here you are.  I’m glad I’ve found you.  Papa says you may get out the ponies, and take me in my little new carriage,” she said, catching his hand.  “But what’s the matter Tom?—­you look sober.”

“I feel bad, Miss Eva,” said Tom, sorrowfully.  “But I’ll get the horses for you.”

“But do tell me, Tom, what is the matter.  I saw you talking to cross old Prue.”

Tom, in simple, earnest phrase, told Eva the woman’s history.  She did not exclaim or wonder, or weep, as other children do.  Her cheeks grew pale, and a deep, earnest shadow passed over her eyes.  She laid both hands on her bosom, and sighed heavily.

VOLUME II

CHAPTER XIX

Miss Ophelia’s Experiences and Opinions Continued

“Tom, you needn’t get me the horses.  I don’t want to go,” she said.

“Why not, Miss Eva?”

“These things sink into my heart, Tom,” said Eva,—­“they sink into my heart,” she repeated, earnestly.  “I don’t want to go;” and she turned from Tom, and went into the house.

A few days after, another woman came, in old Prue’s place, to bring the rusks; Miss Ophelia was in the kitchen.

“Lor!” said Dinah, “what’s got Prue?”

“Prue isn’t coming any more,” said the woman, mysteriously.

“Why not?” said Dinah, “she an’t dead, is she?”

“We doesn’t exactly know.  She’s down cellar,” said the woman, glancing at Miss Ophelia.

After Miss Ophelia had taken the rusks, Dinah followed the woman to the door.

“What has got Prue, any how?” she said.

The woman seemed desirous, yet reluctant, to speak, and answered, in low, mysterious tone.

“Well, you mustn’t tell nobody, Prue, she got drunk agin,—­and they had her down cellar,—­and thar they left her all day,—­and I hearn ’em saying that the flies had got to her,—­and she’s dead!”

Dinah held up her hands, and, turning, saw close by her side the spirit-like form of Evangeline, her large, mystic eyes dilated with horror, and every drop of blood driven from her lips and cheeks.

“Lor bless us!  Miss Eva’s gwine to faint away!  What go us all, to let her har such talk?  Her pa’ll be rail mad.”

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