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NEGRO LIFE IN AMERICA, 209
Rosa was cowed in & moment. | |

“Miss Eva has got the St. Clare blood in her, that’s plain.
She can speak for all the world just like her papa,” she said, as
she passed out of the room.

Eva stood looking at Topsy.

There stood the two children, representatives of the two ex-
tremes of society. The fair, high-bred child, with her golden head,
her deep eyes, her spiritual, noble brow, and prince-like move-
ments ; and her black, keen, subtle, cringing, yet acute neighbour.
They stood the representatives of their races. The Saxon, born
of ages of cultivation, command, education, physical and moral
eminence ; the Afric, born of ages of oppression, submission, igno-
rance, toil, and vice.

Something, perhaps, of such thoughts struggled through Eva’s
mind. But a child’s thoughts are rather dim, undefined instincts;
and in Eva's noble nature many such were yearning and working,
for which she had no power of utterance. When Miss Ophelia
expatiated on Topsy’s naughty, wicked conduct, the child looked
perplexed and sorrowful, but said sweetly —

“Poor Topsy, why need you steal? You're going to be taken
good care of now. I'msure I'd rather give you anything of mine
than have you steal it.”

It was the first word of kindness the child had ever heard in
her life ; and the sweet tone and manner struck strangely on the
wild, rude heart, and a sparkle of something like a tear shone’ in
the keen, round, glittering eye; but it was followed by a short
laugh and habitual grin. No! the ear that has never heard any>
thing but abuse is strangely incredulous of anything so heavenly
as kindness; and Topsy only thought Eva’s speech something
funny and inexplicable—she did not believe it.

But what was to be done with Topsy? Miss Ophelia found
the case a puzzler; her rules for bringing up didn’t seem to apply.
She thought she would take time to think of it; and, by the way
of gaining time, and in hopes of some indefinite moral virtues
supposed to be inherent in dark closets, Miss Ophelia shut Topsy
up in one till she had arranged her ideas further on the subject.

“T don’t see,” said Miss Ophelia to St. Clare, “‘ how I’m going
to manage that child, without whipping her.”

“Well, whip her, then, to your heart's content; I'll give you
full power to do what you like.”

“Children always have to be whipped,” said Miss Ophelia; “I
never heard of bringing them up without.”

“Oh, well, certainly,” said St. Clare; “do as you. think best.
Only I'l make one suggestion: I’ve seen this child whipped with
the poker, knocked down with the shovel or tongs, which ever
came handiest; and, seeing that she is used to that style of
operation, I think your whipping will have to be pretty energetic
to make much impression.”

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