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time。 Now； you know something；—you can’t help it。”
“Well； Mas’r；” said Tom； “towards morning something brushed by me； and I kinder half woke； and then I hearn a great splash； and then I clare woke up； and the gal was gone。 That’s all I know on ’t。”
The trader was not shocked nor amazed； because； as we said before； he was used to a great many things that you are not used to。 Even the awful presence of Death struck no solemn chill upon him。 He had seen Death many times；—met him in the way of trade； and got acquainted with him；—and he only thought of him as a hard customer； that embarrassed his property operations very unfairly； and so he only swore that the gal was a baggage； and that he was devilish unlucky； and that； if things went on in this way； he should not make a cent on the trip。 In short； he seemed to consider himself an ill…used man； decidedly； but there was no help for it； as the woman had escaped into a state which never will give up a fugitive；—not even at the demand of the whole glorious Union。 The trader； therefore； sat discontentedly down； with his little acomount…book； and put down the missing body and soul under the head of losses！
“He’s a shocking creature； isn’t he；—this trader？ so unfeeling！ It’s dreadful； really！”
“O； but nobody thinks anything of these traders！ They are universally despised；—never received into any decent society。”
But who； sir； makes the trader？ Who is most to blame？ The enlightened； cultivated； intelligent man； who supports the system of which the trader is the inevitable result； or the poor trader himself？ You make the public statement that calls for his trade； that debauches and depraves him； till he feels no shame in it； and in what are you better than he？
Are you educated and he ignorant； you high and he low； you refined and he coarse； you talented and he simple？
In the day of a future judgment； these very considerations may make it more tolerable for him than for you。
In concluding these little incidents of lawful trade； we must beg the world not to think that American legislators are entirely destitute of humanity； as might； perhaps； be unfairly inferred from the great efforts made in our national body to protect and perpetuate this species of traffic。
Who does not know how our great men are outdoing themselves； in declaiming against the foreign slave…trade。 There are a perfect host of Clarksons and Wilberforces4 risen up among us on that subject； most edifying to hear and behold。 Trading negroes from Africa； dear reader； is so horrid！ It is not to be thought of！ But trading them from Kentucky；—that’s quite another thing！
1 Jer。 31：15。
2 Gen。 9：25。 This is what Noah says when he wakes out of drunkenness and realizes that his youngest son； Ham； father of Canaan； has seen him naked。
3 Dr。 Joel Parker of Philadelphia。 ＇Mrs。 Stowe’s note。＇ Presbyterian clergyman （1799…1873）； a friend of the Beecher family。 Mrs。 Stowe attempted unsucomessfully to have this identifying note removed from the stereotype…plate of the first edition。
4 Thomas Clarkson （1760…1846） and William Wilberforce （1759…1833）； English philanthropists and anti…slavery agitators who helped to secure passage of the Emancipation Bill by Parliament in 1833。
Chapter 13
The Quaker Settlement
A quiet scene now rises before us。 A large； roomy； neatly…painted kitchen； its yellow floor glossy and smooth； and without a particle of dust； a neat； well…blacked cooking…stove； rows of shining tin； suggestive of unmentionable good things to the appetite； glossy green wood chairs； old and firm； a small flag…bottomed rocking…chair； with a patch…work cushion in it； neatly contrived out of small pieces of different colored woollen goods； and a larger sized one； motherly and old； whose wide arms breathed hospitable invitation； seconded by the solicitation of its feather cushions；—a real comfortable； persuasive old chair； and worth； in the way of honest； homely enjoyment； a dozen of your plush or brochetelle drawing…room gentry； and in the chair； gently swaying back and forward； her eyes bent on some fine sewing； sat our fine old friend Eliza。 Yes； there she is； paler and thinner than in her Kentucky home； with a world of quiet sorrow lying under the shadow of her long eyelashes； and marking the outline of her gentle mouth！ It was plain to see how old and firm the girlish heart was grown under the discipline of heavy sorrow； and when； anon； her large dark eye was raised to follow the gambols of her little Harry； who was sporting； like some tropical butterfly； hither and thither over the floor； she showed a depth of firmness and steady resolve that was never there in her earlier and happier days。
By her side sat a woman with a bright tin pan in her lap； into which she was carefully sorting some dried peaches。 She might be fifty…five or sixty； but hers was one of those faces that time seems to touch only to brighten and adorn。 The snowy fisse crape cap； made after the strait Quaker pattern；—the plain white muslin handkerchief； lying in placid folds across her bosom；—the drab shawl and dress；—showed at once the community to which she belonged。 Her face was round and rosy； with a healthful downy softness； suggestive of a ripe peach。 Her hair； partially silvered by age； was parted smoothly back from a high placid forehead； on which time had written no inscription； except peace on earth； good will to men； and beneath shone a large pair of clear； honest； loving brown eyes； you only needed to look straight into them； to feel that you saw to the bottom of a heart as good and true as ever throbbed in woman’s bosom。 So much has been said and sung of beautiful young girls； why don’t somebody wake up to the beauty of old women？ If any want to get up an inspiration under this head； we refer them to our good friend Rachel Halliday； just as she sits there in her little rocking…chair。 It had a turn for quacking and squeaking；—that chair had；—either from having taken cold in early life； or from some asthmatic affection； or perhaps from nervous derangement； but； as she gently swung backward and forward； the chair kept up a kind of subdued “creechy crawchy；” that would have been intolerable in any other chair。 But old Simeon Halliday often declared it was as good as any music to him； and the children all avowed that they wouldn’t miss of hearing mother’s chair for anything in the world。 For why？ for twenty years or more； nothing but loving words； and gentle moralities； and motherly loving kindness； had come from that chair；—head…aches and heart…aches innumerable had been cured there；—difficulties spiritual and temporal solved there；—all by one good； loving woman； God bless her！
“And so thee still thinks of going to Canada； Eliza？” she said； as she was quietly looking over her peaches。
“Yes； ma’am；” said Eliza； firmly。 “I must go onward。 I dare not stop。”
“And what’ll thee do； when thee gets there？ Thee must think about that； my daughter。”
“My daughter” came naturally from the lips of Rachel Halliday； for hers was just the face and form that made “mother” seem the most natural word in the world。
Eliza’s hands trembled； and some tears fell on her fine work； but she answered； firmly；
“I shall do—anything I can find。 I hope I can find something。”
“Thee knows thee can stay here； as long as thee pleases；” said Rachel。
“O； thank you；” said Eliza； “but”—she pointed to Harry—“I can’t sleep nights； I can’t rest。 night I dreamed I saw that man coming into the yard；” she said； shuddering。
“Poor child！” said Rachel； wiping her eyes； “but thee mustn’t feel so。 The Lord hath ordered it so that never hath a fugitive been stolen from our village。 I trust thine will not be the first。”
The door here opened； and a little short； round； pin…cushiony woman stood at the door； with a cheery； blooming face； like a ripe apple。 She was dressed； like Rachel； in sober gray； with the muslin folded neatly across her round； plump little chest。
“Ruth Stedman；” said Rachel； coming joyfully forward； “how is thee； Ruth？ she said； heartily taking both her hands。
“Nicely；” said Ruth； taking off her little drab bonnet； and dusting it with her handkerchief； displaying； as she did so； a round little hea