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Show 120 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN: OH, }iiarie; "he hasn't spoken one word of symp..<tthy, and he must know how much more a. mother feels than any man can." "The heart knoweth its own bitterness,': said ~fiss Ophelia, gravely. "'l.'lmt 's just what I think. I know just what I fcel,nobody else seems to. Em used to, but she is gone! " anu Marie lay back on her lounge, and began to sob disconsolately. nfaric was one of those unfortunately constituted mortals, in whose eyes whatever is lost and gone assumes a. value which it never had in possession. 'Vhatcvcr she had, she seemed to survey only to pick flaws in it; but, once fairJy away, there was no end to her valuation of it. 'Vhilc this conversation was taking place in the parlor, another was going on in St. Clare's library. Torn, who was alw:1ys uneasily following his master about, had seen him go to his library, some hours before; and, after vainly waiting for him to come out, determined, at last, to make an errand in. Ilc entered softly. St. Clare lay on his lounge, at the further end of the room. He was lying on his face, with Eva's Bible open before him, at a little distance. Tom walked up, and stood by the sofa. He hesitated; and, while be was hesitating, St. Clare suddenly raised himself up. The honest face, so full of grief, and with such an imploring expression of affection and sympathy, struck his master. He laid his hand on 'l'om's, and bowed down his forehead on it. "0, Tom, my boy, the whole world is as empty as an eggshell." "I know it, ~:Ias'r,- I know it,JJ said Torn; "but, oh, jf Mas'r could only look up,- up where our dear Miss Eva is, -up to the dear Lord Jesus!" LH'B AliJO~G 1'HI:; LOWLY. 121 "Ah, Tom! I do look up; but the trouble is, I don't see anything:, when I do. I wish I could." Tom sighed heavily. 11 It seems to be given to children, and poor, honest fellows, like you, to sec what we can't," said St. Clare. "How comes it?" "Thou hast 'hid from the wise and prudent, and revealed unto babes,'" murmured Tom; "'even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.' " "Tom, I don't believe,- I can't believe,- I 'vc got tho habit of doubting," said St. Clare. "I want to believe this Bible,- and I can't." " Dear Mas'r, pray to the good Lord,-' Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief.'" "'Vbo knows anything: about anything:? " said St. Clare, his eyes wandering dreamily, and speaking to himself. ''\Vas all that beautiful IO\·c and faith only one of the ever-shifting phases of human feeling, having nothing real to rest on, passing away with the little breath 1 And is there no more Eva, -no heaven, - no Christ,-nothing? '' " 0, dear 1\'Ias'r, there is! I know it; I'm sure of it," said ~earn, falling on his knees. "Do, do, dear Mas'r, believe it!" "How do you know there's any Christ, Tom? You never saw the Lord." "Felt Him in my soul, ~Ias'r,-fcel Him now! 0, ~fas'r, when I was sold away from my old woman and the children, I was jest a.' most broke up. I felt as if there warn't notbin' left; and then the good Lord, he stood by me, and he says, 'Fear not, Tom ; ' and he brings light and joy into n poor feller's soul,-makes all peace i and I 's so happy, and loves everybody, und feels willin' jest to be the Lord's, and hare VOL. II. 11 |