NEGRO LIFE IN AMERICA. — 123

its perfect beauty of feature than for a singular and dreamy ear-
nestuess of expression, which made the ideal start when they
looked at her, and by which the dullest and most literal were im-
pressed, without exactly knowing why. The shape of her head
and the turn of her neck and bust were peculiarly noble, and the
long golden-brown hair that floated like a cloud around it, the
deep spiritual gravity of her violet-blue eyes, shaded by heavy
fringes of golden brown—all marked her out from other children,
and made every one turn and look after her, as she glided hither
and thither on the boat. Nevertheless, the little one was not
what you would have called either a grave child or a sad one. On
the contrary, an airy and innocent playfulness seemed to flicker
like the shadow of summer leaves over her childish face, and
around her buoyant figure. She was always in motion, always
with a half-smile ow her rosy mouth, flying hither and thither,
with an undulating and cloud-like tread, singing to herself as she
moved, as in a happy dream. Hier father and female guardian
were incessantly busy in pursuit of her, but, when caught, she
melted from them again like a summer cloud. As no word of
chiding or reproof ever fell upon her ear for whatever she chose
to do, she pursued her way all over the boat. Always dressed in
white, she seemed to move like a shadow through all sorts of
places, without contracting spot or stain; and there was not a
corner or nook, above or below, where those fairy footsteps had
not glided, and that visionary golden head, with its deep blue
eyes, fleeted along.

The fireman, as he looked up from his sweaty toil, sometimes
found those eyes looking wonderingly into the raging depths of
the furnace, and fearfully and pityingly at him, as.if she thought
him in some dreadful danger. Anon the steersman at the wheel
paused and smiled, as the picture-like head gleamed through the

window of the round-house, and in a moment was gone again. A.

thousand times a day rough voices blessed her, and smiles of
unwonted softness stole over hard faces, as she passed ; and when
she tripped fearlessly over dangerous places, rough, sooty hands
were stretched involuntarily out to save her, and smooth her
path.

Tom, who had the soft, impressible nature of his kindly
race, ever yearning toward the simple and childlike, watched the
little creature with daily increasing interest. To him she seemed
something almost divine; and whenever her golden head and
deep blue eyes peered out upon him from behind some dusky
cotton-bale, or looked down upon him over some ridge of packages,
he half believed that he saw one of the angels stepped out of his
New Testament.

Often and often she walked mournfully round the place where
Haley’s gang of men and women sat in their chains. She would
glide in among them, and look at them with an air of perplexed

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