Every one of his
buttonholes was stuck full of flowers. Eva, laughing gaily, was hanging
a wreath of roses round his neck. Then, still laughing, she perched on
his knee like a little sparrow.
'Oh, Tom, you look so funny!'
Tom had a sober smile on his face. He seemed in his own quiet way to be
enjoying the fun quite as much as his little mistress. When he lifted
his eyes and saw his master he looked as if he were afraid he might be
scolded. But Mr. St. Clare only smiled.
'How can you let her do that?' said Miss Ophelia.
'Why not?' said Mr. St. Clare.
'Why? I don't know. It seems dreadful to me.'
'You would think it was quite right and natural if you saw Eva playing
with a large dog, even if he was black. But a fellow-creature that can
think, and reason, and feel, and is immortal, you shudder at. I know how
you north-country people feel about it. You loathe the blacks as you
would a toad or a snake. Yet you pity them, and are angry because they
are often ill-treated.'
'Well, cousin,' said Miss Ophelia thoughtfully, 'I daresay you are
right. I suppose I must try to get over my feeling.'
CHAPTER X
UNCLE TOM'S LETTER
Uncle Tom felt that he was indeed very fortunate to have found such a
kind master and so good a home. He had nice clothes, plenty of food, and
a comfortable room to sleep in.
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