Pictures and Stories from Uncle Tom's Cabin

"Thank you, thank you, dear John," said the wife, laying her white hand on his – "Could I ever have loved you had I not known you better than you do yourself?"

Off Mr. Bird set to see about the carriage, but at the door he stopped for a moment, and then coming back, he said, with a quivering voice, —

"Mary, I don't know how you'd feel about it, but there's the drawer full of things – of – of – poor little Henry's." So saying, he turned quickly on his heel, and shut the door after him.

His wife opened the little bedroom door adjoining her room, and taking the candle, set it down on the top of a bureau there; then from a small recess she took a key, and put it thoughtfully in the lock of a drawer, and made a sudden pause, while two boys, who, boy-like, had followed close on her heels, stood looking, with silent, significant glances, at their mother. And oh! mother that reads this, has there never been in your house a drawer, or a closet, the opening of which has been to you like the opening again of a little grave? Ah! happy mother that you are, if it has not been so!

Mrs. Bird slowly opened the drawer. There were little coats of many a form and pattern, piles of aprons, and rows of small stockings; and even a pair of little shoes, worn and rubbed at the toes, were peeping from the folds of a paper. There was a toy horse and waggon, a top, a ball – memorials gathered with many a tear and many a heartbreak! She sat down by the drawer, and leaning her head on her hands over it, wept till the tears fell through her fingers into the drawer; then suddenly raising her head, she began, with nervous haste, selecting the plainest and most substantial articles, and gathering them into a bundle.

"Mamma," said one of the boys, gently touching her arm, "are you going to give away those things?"

"My dear boys," she said, softly and earnestly, "if our dear, loving, little Henry looks down from heaven, he would be glad to have us do this. I could not find it in my heart to give them away to any common person – to anybody that was happy; but I give them to a mother more heart-broken and sorrowful than I am; and I hope God will send his blessings with them!"

Mr. Bird returned about twelve o'clock with the carriage. "Mary," said he, coming in with his overcoat in his hand, you must wake her up now. "We must be off." Soon arrayed in a cloak, bonnet, and shawl that had belonged to her benefactress, poor Eliza appeared at the door with her child in her arms. When she got seated in the carriage, she fixed her large dark eyes on Mrs. Bird's face, and seemed going to speak. Her lips moved, but there was no sound; pointing upward with a look never to be forgotten, she fell back in her seat and covered her face. The door was shut, and the carriage drove on.

It was not long before they arrived at the place where Mr. Bird thought they would be safe from the cruel trader. It was a village about seven miles off, consisting of neat houses, with orchards and meadows about them.

They all belonged to Quakers, a sect of Christians whom foolish people laugh at, because they think it right to wear broad-brimmed hats, and odd old-fashioned bonnets; but they do many good and charitable things, especially for the poor negroes, and one of them took Harry and his mother in.

I cannot tell all the kindness the Quaker and his family did to them, giving Harry such good things, and watching lest the trader should come that way; but the greatest joy of all was, one evening, when a tall strong man, called Phineas Fletcher, who was a Quaker, and a great traveller, guided to the village Harry's poor father, George. His master was going to sell him too, and he had run away, and searched everywhere for his wife and child, to take them with him to Canada, which you know belongs to England. Oh what a happy meeting that was between George, Eliza, and little Harry.

But they could not remain long with the kind Quakers. Their cruel pursuers had found out where they were hid, so they had all to set out again together. This time they were guided by the brave-hearted Phineas Fletcher, and hoped to reach Canada in safety. But their pursuers overtook them, and they had to run to the rocks to defend themselves, as the verses will tell.

THE DEFENCE

 
See Harry's poor father, with pistol in hand,
How bravely he takes on the steep rock his stand,
Over rivers, and forests, and towns he has passed,
And found his Eliza and Harry at last.
 
 
The kind Quaker folks that wear drab, brown, and gray,
To the wanderers gave shelter and bread on their way,
Their warm clothes were given them, their waggon was lent,
And the strong-armed Phineas along with them went.
 
 
Their hope was to journey to Canada's shore,
Where the trader or master could reach them no more;
For the English flag floats there, o'er land and o'er sea,
And they knew in its shadow the negro was free.
 
 
But far is their way through the slave-dealing land,
And now on their track comes the trader's fierce band;
So for refuge and rest to the rocks they have run,
And the father will fight for his wife and his son.
 
 
He fires on the first up the steep rock that springs,
But the trader comes on, shouting all wicked things,
Till Phineas right over the crag flings him clear,
Saying, "Friend, in my mind thou hast no business here."
 
 
Then off go the traders to find them more men,
And off go the friends in their waggon again;
But don't you wish well to the good man for life,
Who would fight for his freedom, his child, and his wife?
 

After this, George and Eliza, with their little Harry, journeyed on, never stopping, except at the house of another kind friend, to disguise themselves before going on board the steamboat, which at last brought them safe to Canada.