| OCR Text |
Show 102 UNCLE TO:U'S CAlliY: OR, you don't cut up none o' yer shines about it, or I 'II make ye wish yo 'd never been born.' I tell yc, they sees it ::m't no play, wl1en I gets hold. I makes 'em us whist as fishes; and if one on 'em begins and gives a yelp, why,-" and Mr. Loker brought down his fist with a thump that fully explained the hiatus. "That ar 's what ye may call C'lnpltasis," said n.In.rks, poking Haley in the side, aud going into another small giggle. "An't Tom peculiar? he ! he ! he! I soy, Tom, I a'pect you make 'em understand, for all niggers' heads is woolly. 'l'hey don't never have no doubt o' your meaning, Tom. If you an't tho devil, Tom, you 's his twin brother, I 'II say that for yc ! " Tom received the compliment with becoming modesty, and began to look as affable as was consistent, as John Bunyan says, "with hjs doggish nature." Haley, who had been imbibing very freely of the staple of the evening, began to feel a sensible elevation and enlargement of his moral faculties,- a phenomenon not unusual with gentlemen of a. serious and reflective turn, under similar circumsta.nces. "Wal, now, Tom," he said, "yo re'lly is too bad, as I al'ays have told ye; ye know, Tom, you and I used to talk over these ycr matters down in Natchez, and I used to prove to ye that we made full as much, and was as well off for this yer world, by treatin' on 'em well, besides kecpin' a bettor chance for comin' in tho kingdom at last, when wust comes to wust, aud thar an't nothing else left to get, ye know." "Bob !" said Tom, "don't I know?-don't make me too sick with any ycr stuff,-my stomach is a lcetle riled now; '' and Tom drank half a glass of raw brandy. " I say," said Haley, and leaning back in his chair and LIFE AAIONG THE LOWLY. 103 gestm·ing impressiYely, " I ' ll say this now, I al'ays meant to drive my trade so as to make money on 't, Just and foremost, as much as any man; but, then, trade an't m•crything, and money nn't everything, 'cause we 's all got souls. I don't care, now, who hears me say it,-and I think a cussed sight on it,-so I may as well come out with it. I b'licve in reljgion, nnd one of these days, when I 've got matters tight and snug, I calculates to tend to my soul and them ar matters ; and so what's the usc of tloin' any more wickedness than 's re'lly necessary?- it don:t seem to me it 's 'tall prudent.'' " Tend to yer soul ! " repeated Tom, contemptuously; " take a bright look-out to find a soul in you,- save yourself any care on that score. If the devil sifts you through a hair sieve, he won't find one." " 'Vhy, Tom, you're cross/' sa.id Haley; "why can 1t ye take it pleasant, now, when a feller's talking for your good?" "Stop that ar jaw o' yourn, there," said Tom, gruflly. " I can stand most auy ta.lk o' yourn but your pious talk, - that kills me right up. Mter all, what 's tho odds between me and you? '~ran't that you care one bit more, or have a. bit more fcclin',-it 's clean, sheer, dog meanness, wanting to cheat tho devil and save your own skin; don't I see through it? And your ' gettin' religion,' as you call it, artcr all, is too p'isin mean for any crittur;- run up a. bill with the devil all your life, and then sneak out when pay time comes ! Bob!" "Come, come, gentlemen, I say; this isn't business," said Marks. " There 's different ways, you know, of looking at all subjects. Mr. Haley is a very nice man, no doubt, and has his own conscience i and, Tom, you have your ways, and very good ones, too, Tom i but quarrelling, you know, won't answer no kind of purpose. Let 's go to business. Now, |
