The Father of Mercy will receive him there; he will forgive
the crimes enforced upon him by man; and that dark body on earth
will be recompensed in a world of light,--it will shine with the
brighter spirits of that realm of justice and love. Earth may bring
the slavetrader bounties; but heaven will reject the foul offering."
The good woman unfolds the tender emotions of her heart, as only
woman can.
Bob listens, as if taking a deep interest in the force and
earnestness of young missus's language. He is swayed by her pathos,
and at length interposes his word.
"Nigger ain't so good as white man" (he shakes his head,
philosophically). "White man sharp; puzzle nigger to find out what
'e don, know ven 'e mind t'." Thus saying, he takes a small hymn-
book from his pocket, and, Franconia setting the light beside him,
commences reading to himself by its dim glare.
"Well! now, uncle, it's getting late, and I've a good way to go, and
the night's stormy; so I must prepare for home." Franconia gets up,
and evinces signs of withdrawing. She walks across the little
chamber three or four times, looks out of the window, strains her
sight into the gloomy prospect, and then, as if reluctant to leave
her uncle, again takes a seat by his side. Gently laying her left
hand upon his shoulder, she makes an effort at pleasantry, tells him
to keep up his resolution-to be of good cheer.
"Remember, uncle," she says, calmly, "they tell us it is no disgrace
to be poor,--no shame to work to live; and yet poor people are
treated as criminals.
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