114 UNCLE TOM’S CABIN; OR,

Eliza’s hands trembled, and some tears fell on her fine work ;
but she answered firmly— q

“JT shall do anything I can find. I hope I can find some-
thing.”

«Thee knows thee can stay here as long as thee pleases,” said
Rachel.

“Oh, thank you,” said Eliza, “‘but”—she pointed to Harry—
“T can’t sleep nights; I can’t rest. Last night I dreamed I saw
that man coming into the yard,” she said shuddering.

‘Poor child!” said Rachel, wiping her eyes ; “‘ but thee musn’t
feel so. The Lord hath ordered it so that never hath a fugitive
been stolen from our village. I trust thine will not be the first.”

The door here opened, and a little, short, round, pincushiony
woman stood at the door, with a cheery, blooming face, like a
ripe apple. She was dressed, like Rachel, in sober grey, with
the muslin folded neatly across her round, plump little chest.

“Ruth Stedman,” said Rachel, coming joyfully forward, “how
is thee, Ruth ?” she said, heartily taking both her hands.

“Nicely,” said Ruth, taking off her little drab bonnet, and
dusting it with her handkerchief, displaying, as she did so, a
round little head, on which the Quaker cap sat with a sort of
jaunty air, despite all the stroking and patting of the small fat
hands, which were busily applied to arranging it. Certain stray
locks of decidedly curly hair, too, had escaped here and there, and
had to be coaxed and cajoled into their place again; and then the
new comer, who might have been five-and twenty, turned from the
small looking-glass, before which she had been making these ar-
rangements, and looked well pleased—as most people who looked
at her might have been; for she was decidedly a wholesome,
whole-hearted, chirruping little woman, as ever gladdened man’s
heart withal.

* Ruth, this friend is Eliza Harris; and this is the little boy I
told thee of.”

“I am glad to see thee, Eliza—very,” said Ruth, shaking
hands, as if Eliza were an old friend she had long been expect-
ing; ‘and this is thy dear boy—I brought a cake for him,” she
said, holding out a little heart to the boy, who came up, gazing
through his curls, and accepted it shyly. |

“* ‘Where's thy baby, Ruth ?” said Rachel.

‘Oh, he’s coming; but thy Mary caught him as I came in,
and ran off with him to the barn, to show him to the children.”

At this moment, the door opened, and Mary, an houest, rosy-
looking girl, with large brown eyes like her mother’s, came in
with the baby.

“Ah! ha!’ said Rachel, coming up, and taking the great,
white, fat fellow in her arms; “how good he looks, and how he
does grow !”

“To be sure he does,” said little bustling Ruth, as she took