LITMIR.BIZ

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and giving his auditors divers inexpressibly droll glances, without departing from the sententious elevation of his oratory.

      “Yer see, fellow-countrymen,” said Sam, elevating a turkey’s leg, with energy, “yer see, now, what dis yer chile ’s up ter, for fendin’ yer all, – yes, all on yer. For him as tries to get one o’ our people, is as good as tryin’ to get all; yer see the principle ’s de same, – dat ar ’s clar. And any one o’ these yer drivers that comes smelling round arter any our people, why, he’s got me in his way; I’m the feller he’s got to set in with, – I’m the feller for yer all to come to, bredren, – I’ll stand up for yer rights, – I’ll fend ’em to the last breath!”

      “Why, but Sam, yer telled me, only this mornin’, that you’d help this yer Mas’r to cotch Lizy; seems to me yer talk don’t hang together,” said Andy.

      “I tell you now, Andy,” said Sam, with awful superiority, “don’t yer be a talkin’ ’bout what yer don’t know nothin’ on; boys like you, Andy, means well, but they can’t be spected to collusitate the great principles of action.”

      Andy looked rebuked, particularly by the hard word collusitate, which most of the youngerly members of the company seemed to consider as a settler in the case, while Sam proceeded.

      “Dat ar was conscience, Andy; when I thought of gwine arter Lizy, I railly spected Mas’r was sot dat way. When I found Missis was sot the contrar, dat ar was conscience more yet, – cause fellers allers gets more by stick-in’ to Missis’ side, – so yer see I’s persistent either way, and sticks up to conscience, and holds on to principles. Yes, principles,” said Sam, giving an enthusiastic toss to a chicken’s neck, – “what’s principles good for, if we is n’t persistent, I wanter know? Thar, Andy, you may have dat ar bone, – ’tan’t picked quite clean.”

      Sam’s audience hanging on his words with open mouth, he could not but proceed.

      “Dis yer matter ’bout persistence, feller-niggers,” said Sam, with the air of one entering into an abstruse subject, “dis yer ’sistency ’s a thing what an’t seed into very clar, by most anybody. Now, yer see, when a feller stands up for a thing one day and night, de contrar de next, folks ses (and nat’rally enough dey ses), why he an’t persistent, – hand me dat ar bit o’ corn-cake, Andy. But let’s look inter it. I hope the gen’lmen and der fair sex will scuse my usin’ an or’nary sort o’ ’parison. Here! I’m a tryin’ to get top o’ der hay. Wal, I puts up my larder dis yer side; ’tan’t no go; – den, cause I don’t try dere no more, but puts my larder right de contrar side, an’t I persistent? I’m persistent in wantin’ to get up which ary side my larder is; don’t you see, all on yer?”

      “It’s the only thing ye ever was persistent in, Lord knows!” muttered Aunt Chloe, who was getting rather restive; the merriment of the evening being to her somewhat after the Scripture comparison, – like “vinegar upon nitre.”

      “Yes, indeed!” said Sam, rising, full of supper and glory, for a closing effort. “Yes, my feller-citizens and ladies of de other sex in general, I has principles, – I’m proud to ’oon ’em, – they’s perquisite to dese yer times, and ter all times. I has principles, and I sticks to ’em like forty, – jest anything that I thinks is principle, I goes in to ’t; – I would n’t mind if dey burnt me ‘live, – I’d walk right up to de stake, I would, and say, here I comes to shed my last blood fur my principles, fur my country, fur der gen’l interests of s’ciety.”

      “Well,” said Aunt Chloe, “one o’ yer principles will have to be to get to bed some time to-night, and not be a keepin’ everybody up till mornin’; now, every one of you young uns that don’t want to be cracked, had better be scase, mighty sudden.”

      “Niggers! all on yer,” said Sam, waving his palm-leaf with benignity, “I give yer my blessin’; go to bed now, and be good boys.”

      And, with this pathetic benediction, the assembly dispersed.

      IX

      In Which It Appears that a Senator Is but a Man

      The light of the cheerful fire shone on the rug and carpet of a cosey parlor, and glittered on the sides of the teacups and well-brightened tea-pot, as Senator Bird was drawing off his boots, preparatory to inserting his feet in a pair of new handsome slippers, which his wife had been working for him while away on his senatorial tour. Mrs. Bird, looking the very picture of delight, was superintending the arrangements of the table, ever and anon^[38] mingling admonitory remarks to a number of frolicsome juveniles, who were effervescing in all those modes of untold gambol and mischief that have astonished mothers ever since the flood.

      “Tom, let the door-knob alone, – there’s a man! Mary! Mary! don’t pull the cat’s tail, – poor pussy! Jim, you must n’t climb on that table, – no, no! – You don’t know, my dear, what a surprise it is to us all, to see you here tonight!” said she, at last, when she found a space to say something to her husband.

      “Yes, yes, I thought I’d just make a run down, spend the night, and have a little comfort at home. I’m tired to death, and my head aches!”

      Mrs. Bird cast a glance at a camphor-bottle, which stood in the half-open closet, and appeared to meditate an approach to it, but her husband interposed.

      “No, no, Mary, no doctoring! a cup of your good hot tea, and some of our good home living, is what I want. It’s a tiresome business, this legislating!”

      And the senator smiled, as if he rather liked the idea of considering himself a sacrifice to his country.

      “Well,” said his wife, after the business of the tea-table was getting rather slack, “and what have they been doing in the Senate?”

      Now, it was a very unusual thing for gentle little Mrs. Bird ever to trouble her head with what was going on in the house of the state, very wisely considering that she had enough to do to mind her own. Mr. Bird, therefore, opened his eyes in surprise, and said, “Not very much of importance.”

      “Well; but is it true that they have been passing a law forbidding people to give meat and drink to those poor colored folks that come along? I heard they were talking of some such law, but I did n’t think any Christian legislature would pass it!”

      “Why, Mary, you are getting to be a politician, all at once.”

      “No, nonsense! I would n’t give a fip for all your politics[39], generally, but I think this is something downright cruel and unchristian. I hope, my dear, no such law has been passed.”

      “There has been a law passed forbidding people to help off the slaves that come over from Kentucky, my dear; so much of that thing has been done by these reckless Abolitionists, that our brethren in Kentucky are very strongly excited, and it seems necessary, and no more than Christian and kind, that something should be done by our state to quiet the excitement.”

      “And what is the law? It don’t forbid us to shelter these poor creatures a night, does it, and to give ’em something comfortable to eat, and a few old clothes, and send them quietly about their business?”

      “Why, yes, my dear; that would be aiding and abetting, you know.”

      Mrs. Bird was a timid, blushing little woman, of about four feet in height, and with mild blue eyes, and a peachblow complexion, and the gentlest, sweetest voice in the world; – as for courage, a moderate-sized cock-turkey had been known to put her to rout at the very first gobble, and a stout house-dog, of moderate capacity, would bring her into subjection merely by a show of his teeth. Her husband and children were her entire world, and in these she ruled more by entreaty and persuasion than by command or argument. There was only one thing that was capable of arousing her, and that provocation came in on the side of her unusually gentle and sympathetic nature; – anything in the shape of cruelty would throw her into a passion, which was the more alarming and inexplicable in proportion to the general softness of her nature. Generally the most indulgent and easy to be entreated

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