Our readers may not be unwilling to glance back, for a brief interval,at Uncle Tom's Cabin, on the Kentucky farm, and see what has beentranspiring among those whom he had left behind.

It was late in the summer afternoon, and the doors and windows of thelarge parlor all stood open, to invite any stray breeze, that might feelin a good humor, to enter. Mr. Shelby sat in a large hall openinginto the room, and running through the whole length of the house, toa balcony on either end. Leisurely tipped back on one chair, with hisheels in another, he was enjoying his after-dinner cigar. Mrs. Shelbysat in the door, busy about some fine sewing; she seemed like one whohad something on her mind, which she was seeking an opportunity tointroduce.

"Do you know," she said, "that Chloe has had a letter from Tom?"

"Ah! has she? Tom 's got some friend there, it seems. How is the oldboy?"

"He has been bought by a very fine family, I should think," said Mrs.Shelby,--"is kindly treated, and has not much to do."

"Ah! well, I'm glad of it,--very glad," said Mr. Shelby, heartily. "Tom,I suppose, will get reconciled to a Southern residence;--hardly want tocome up here again."

"On the contrary he inquires very anxiously," said Mrs. Shelby, "whenthe money for his redemption is to be raised."

"I'm sure _I_ don't know," said Mr. Shelby. "Once get business runningwrong, there does seem to be no end to it. It's like jumping from onebog to another, all through a swamp; borrow of one to pay another, andthen borrow of another to pay one,--and these confounded notes fallingdue before a man has time to smoke a cigar and turn round,--dunningletters and dunning messages,--all scamper and hurry-scurry."

"It does seem to me, my dear, that something might be done to straightenmatters. Suppose we sell off all the horses, and sell one of your farms,and pay up square?"

"O, ridiculous, Emily! You are the finest woman in Kentucky; but stillyou haven't sense to know that you don't understand business;--womennever do, and never can.

"But, at least," said Mrs. Shelby, "could not you give me some littleinsight into yours; a list of all your debts, at least, and of allthat is owed to you, and let me try and see if I can't help you toeconomize."

"O, bother! don't plague me, Emily!--I can't tell exactly. I knowsomewhere about what things are likely to be; but there's no trimmingand squaring my affairs, as Chloe trims crust off her pies. You don'tknow anything about business, I tell you."

And Mr. Shelby, not knowing any other way of enforcing his ideas, raisedhis voice,--a mode of arguing very convenient and convincing, when agentleman is discussing matters of business with his wife.

Mrs. Shelby ceased talking, with something of a sigh. The fact was,that though her husband had stated she was a woman, she had a clear,energetic, practical mind, and a force of character every way superiorto that of her husband; so that it would not have been so very absurda supposition, to have allowed her capable of managing, as Mr. Shelbysupposed. Her heart was set on performing her promise to Tom and AuntChloe, and she sighed as discouragements thickened around her.

"Don't you think we might in some way contrive to raise that money? PoorAunt Chloe! her heart is so set on it!"

"I'm sorry, if it is. I think I was premature in promising. I'm notsure, now, but it's the best way to tell Chloe, and let her make upher mind to it. Tom'll have another wife, in a year or two; and she hadbetter take up with somebody else."

"Mr. Shelby, I have taught my people that their marriages are as sacredas ours. I never could think of giving Chloe such advice."

"It's a pity, wife, that you have burdened them with a morality abovetheir condition and prospects. I always thought so."

"It's only the morality of the Bible, Mr. Shelby."

"Well, well, Emily, I don't pretend to interfere with your religiousnotions; only they seem extremely unfitted for people in thatcondition."

"They are, indeed," said Mrs. Shelby, "and that is why, from my soul,I hate the whole thing. I tell you, my dear, _I_ cannot absolve myselffrom the promises I make to these helpless creatures. If I can get themoney no other way I will take music-scholars;--I could get enough, Iknow, and earn the money myself."

"You wouldn't degrade yourself that way, Emily? I never could consent toit."

"Degrade! would it degrade me as much as to break my faith with thehelpless? No, indeed!"

"Well, you are always heroic and transcendental," said Mr. Shelby,"but I think you had better think before you undertake such a piece ofQuixotism."

Here the conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Aunt Chloe,at the end of the verandah.

"If you please, Missis," said she.

"Well, Chloe, what is it?" said her mistress, rising, and going to theend of the balcony.

"If Missis would come and look at dis yer lot o' poetry."

Chloe had a particular fancy for calling poultry poetry,--an applicationof language in which she always persisted, notwithstanding frequentcorrections and advisings from the young members of the family.

"La sakes!" she would say, "I can't see; one jis good as turry,--poetrysuthin good, any how;" and so poetry Chloe continued to call it.

Mrs. Shelby smiled as she saw a prostrate lot of chickens and ducks,over which Chloe stood, with a very grave face of consideration.

"I'm a thinkin whether Missis would be a havin a chicken pie o' deseyer."

"Really, Aunt Chloe, I don't much care;--serve them any way you like."

Chloe stood handling them over abstractedly; it was quite evident thatthe chickens were not what she was thinking of. At last, with the shortlaugh with which her tribe often introduce a doubtful proposal, shesaid,

"Laws me, Missis! what should Mas'r and Missis be a troublin theirselves'bout de money, and not a usin what's right in der hands?" and Chloelaughed again.

"I don't understand you, Chloe," said Mrs. Shelby, nothing doubting,from her knowledge of Chloe's manner, that she had heard every word ofthe conversation that had passed between her and her husband.

"Why, laws me, Missis!" said Chloe, laughing again, "other folks hiresout der niggers and makes money on 'em! Don't keep sich a tribe eatin'em out of house and home."

"Well, Chloe, who do you propose that we should hire out?"

"Laws! I an't a proposin nothin; only Sam he said der was one of deseyer _perfectioners_, dey calls 'em, in Louisville, said he wanted a goodhand at cake and pastry; and said he'd give four dollars a week to one,he did."

"Well, Chloe."

"Well, laws, I 's a thinkin, Missis, it's time Sally was put along tobe doin' something. Sally 's been under my care, now, dis some time, andshe does most as well as me, considerin; and if Missis would only letme go, I would help fetch up de money. I an't afraid to put my cake, norpies nother, 'long side no _perfectioner's_.

"Confectioner's, Chloe."

"Law sakes, Missis! 'tan't no odds;--words is so curis, can't never get'em right!"

"But, Chloe, do you want to leave your children?"

"Laws, Missis! de boys is big enough to do day's works; dey does wellenough; and Sally, she'll take de baby,--she's such a peart young un,she won't take no lookin arter."

"Louisville is a good way off."

"Law sakes! who's afeard?--it's down river, somer near my old man,perhaps?" said Chloe, speaking the last in the tone of a question, andlooking at Mrs. Shelby.

"No, Chloe; it's many a hundred miles off," said Mrs. Shelby.

Chloe's countenance fell.

"Never mind; your going there shall bring you nearer, Chloe. Yes, youmay go; and your wages shall every cent of them be laid aside for yourhusband's redemption."

As when a bright sunbeam turns a dark cloud to silver, so Chloe's darkface brightened immediately,--it really shone.

"Laws! if Missis isn't too good! I was thinking of dat ar very thing;cause I shouldn't need no clothes, nor shoes, nor nothin,--I could saveevery cent. How many weeks is der in a year, Missis?"

"Fifty-two," said Mrs. Shelby.

"Laws! now, dere is? and four dollars for each on em. Why, how much 'ddat ar be?"

"Two hundred and eight dollars," said Mrs. Shelby.

"Why-e!" said Chloe, with an accent of surprise and delight; "and howlong would it take me to work it out, Missis?"

"Some four or five years, Chloe; but, then, you needn't do it all,--Ishall add something to it."

"I wouldn't hear to Missis' givin lessons nor nothin. Mas'r's quiteright in dat ar;--'t wouldn't do, no ways. I hope none our family everbe brought to dat ar, while I 's got hands."

"Don't fear, Chloe; I'll take care of the honor of the family," saidMrs. Shelby, smiling. "But when do you expect to go?"

"Well, I want spectin nothin; only Sam, he's a gwine to de river withsome colts, and he said I could go long with him; so I jes put my thingstogether. If Missis was willin, I'd go with Sam tomorrow morning, ifMissis would write my pass, and write me a commendation."

"Well, Chloe, I'll attend to it, if Mr. Shelby has no objections. I mustspeak to him."

Mrs. Shelby went up stairs, and Aunt Chloe, delighted, went out to hercabin, to make her preparation.

"Law sakes, Mas'r George! ye didn't know I 's a gwine to Louisvilletomorrow!" she said to George, as entering her cabin, he found her busyin sorting over her baby's clothes. "I thought I'd jis look over sis'sthings, and get 'em straightened up. But I'm gwine, Mas'r George,--gwineto have four dollars a week; and Missis is gwine to lay it all up, tobuy back my old man agin!"

"Whew!" said George, "here's a stroke of business, to be sure! How areyou going?"

"Tomorrow, wid Sam. And now, Mas'r George, I knows you'll jis sit downand write to my old man, and tell him all about it,--won't ye?"

"To be sure," said George; "Uncle Tom'll be right glad to hear from us.I'll go right in the house, for paper and ink; and then, you know, AuntChloe, I can tell about the new colts and all."

"Sartin, sartin, Mas'r George; you go 'long, and I'll get ye up a bit o'chicken, or some sich; ye won't have many more suppers wid yer poor oldaunty."