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NEGRO LIFE IN AMERICA, 73

sion, though pretty well aware of the shape her husband's medi-
tations were taking, she very prudently forbore to meddle with
them, only sat very quietly in her chair, and looked quite ready
to hear her liege lord’s intentions, when he should think proper
to utter them.

‘You see,” he said, “ there's my old client, Van Trompe, has
come over from. Kentucky, and set all his slaves free ; and he has
bought a place seven miles up the creek, here, back in the woods,
where nobody goes, unless they go on purpose; and it’s a place
that isn’t found in a hurry. There she’d be safe enough; but
the plague of the thing is, nobody could drive a carriage there
to-night but me.”

“Why not? Cudjoe is an excellent driver.”

“Ay, ay, but here it is. The creek has to be crossed twice ;
and the second crossing is quite dangerous unless one knows it as
I do. I have crossed it a hundred times on horseback, and know
exactly the turns to take. And so, you see, there’s no help for
it. Cudjoe must put in the horses, as quietly as may be, about
twelve o’clock, and I’ll take her over; and then, to give colour
to the matter, he must carry me on to the next tavern, to take
the stage for Columbus that comes by about three or four, and so
it will look as if I had had the carriage only for that. I shall get
into business bright and early in the morning. But I’m thinking
I shall feel rather cheap there, after all that’s been said and done ;
but, hang it, I can’t help it!” ,

‘Your heart is better than your head, in this case, John,” said
the wife, laying her little white hand on his. ‘Could I ever have
loved you, had I not known you better than you know yourself ?”
And the little woman looked so handsome, with the tears spark-
ling in-her eyes, that the senator thought he must be a decidedly
clever fellow to get such a pretty creature into such a passionate
admiration of him; and so, what could he do but walk off soberly,
to see about the carriage? At the door, however, he stopped a
moment, and then coming back, he said, with some hesitation—

‘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 bed-room 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, ora
closet, the opening of which has been to you like be 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 Oats