I have called thee by nameThou art Mine!”
But... I have called thee by nameThou art Mine!”
But Simon Legree heard no voiceThat voice is one he never shall hearHe only glared for a moment on the downcast face of Tom, and walked offHe took Tom’s trunk, which contained a very neat and abundant wardrobe, to the forecastle, where it was soon surrounded by various hands of the boatWith much laughing, at the expense of niggers who tried to be gentlemen, the articles very readily were sold to one and another, and the empty trunk finally put up at auctionIt was a good joke, they all thought, especially to see how Tom looked after his things, as they were going this way and that; and then the auction of the trunk, that was funnier than all, and occasioned abundant witticisms
This little affair being over, Simon sauntered up again to his property
“Now, Tom, I’ve relieved you of any extra baggage, you seeTake mighty good care of them clothesIt’ll be long enough ’fore you get moreI go in for making niggers careful; one suit has to do for one year, on my place
Simon next walked up to the place where Emmeline was sitting, chained to another woman
“Well, my dear,” he said, chucking her under the chin, “keep up your spirits
The involuntary look of horror, fright and aversion, with which the girl regarded him, did not escape his eye
“None o’ your shines, gal! you’s got to keep a pleasant face, when I speak to ye,—d’ye hear? And you, you old yellow poco moonshine!” he said, giving a shove to the mulatto woman to whom Emmeline was chained, “don’t you carry that sort of face! You’s got to look chipper, I tell ye!”
“I say, all on ye,” he said retreating a pace or two back, “look at me,—look at me,—look me right in the eye,—straight, now!” said he, stamping his foot at every pause
As by a fascination, every eye was now directed to the glaring greenish-gray eye of Simon
“Now,” said he, doubling his great, heavy fist into something resembling a blacksmith’s hammer, “d’ye see this fist? Heft it!” he said, bringing it down on Tom’s hand“Look at these yer bones! Well, I tell ye this yer fist has got as hard as iron knocking down niggersI never see the nigger, yet, I couldn’t bring down with one crack,” said he, bringing his fist down so near to the face of Tom that he winked and drew back“I don’t keep none o’ yer cussed overseers; I does my own overseeing; and I tell you things is seen toYou’s every one on ye got to toe the mark, I tell ye; quick,—straight,—the moment I speakThat’s the way to keep in with meYe won’t find no soft spot in me, nowhereSo, now, mind yerselves; for I don’t show no mercy!”
The women involuntarily drew in their breath, and the whole gang sat with downcast, dejected facesMeanwhile, Simon turned on his heel, and marched up to the bar of the boat for a dram
“That’s the way I begin with my niggers,” he said, to a gentlemanly man, who had stood by him during his speech“It’s my system to begin strong,—just let ’em know what to expect
“Indeed!” said the stranger, looking upon him with the curiosity of a naturalist studying some out-of-the-way specimenI’m none o’ yer gentlemen planters, with lily fingers, to slop round and be cheated by some old cuss of an overseer! Just feel of my knuckles, now; look at my fistTell ye, sir, the flesh on ’t has come jest like a stone, practising on nigger—feel on it
The stranger applied his fingers to the implement in question, and simply said,
“’T is hard enough; and, I suppose,” he added, “practice has made your heart just like it
“Why, yes, I may say so,” said Simon, with a hearty laugh“I reckon there’s as little soft in me as in any one goingTell you, nobody comes it over me! Niggers never gets round me, neither with squalling nor soft soap,—that’s a fact
“You have a fine lot there“There’s that Tom, they telled me he was suthin’ uncommonI paid a little high for him, tendin’ him for a driver and a managing chap; only get the notions out that he’s larnt by bein’ treated as niggers never ought to be, he’ll do prime! The yellow woman I got took in onI rayther think she’s sickly, but I shall put her through for what she’s worth; she may last a year or twoI don’t go for savin’
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