George Shelby had written to his mother merely a line, stating the daythat she might expect him home. Of the death scene of his old friendhe had not the heart to write. He had tried several times, and onlysucceeded in half choking himself; and invariably finished by tearing upthe paper, wiping his eyes, and rushing somewhere to get quiet.

There was a pleased bustle all though the Shelby mansion, that day, inexpectation of the arrival of young Mas'r George.

Mrs. Shelby was seated in her comfortable parlor, where a cheerfulhickory fire was dispelling the chill of the late autumn evening. Asupper-table, glittering with plate and cut glass, was set out, on whosearrangements our former friend, old Chloe, was presiding.

Arrayed in a new calico dress, with clean, white apron, and high,well-starched turban, her black polished face glowing with satisfaction,she lingered, with needless punctiliousness, around the arrangements ofthe table, merely as an excuse for talking a little to her mistress.

"Laws, now! won't it look natural to him?" she said. "Thar,--I set hisplate just whar he likes it round by the fire. Mas'r George allerswants de warm seat. O, go way!--why didn't Sally get out de _best_tea-pot,--de little new one, Mas'r George got for Missis, Christmas?I'll have it out! And Missis has heard from Mas'r George?" she said,inquiringly.

"Yes, Chloe; but only a line, just to say he would be home tonight, ifhe could,--that's all."

"Didn't say nothin' 'bout my old man, s'pose?" said Chloe, stillfidgeting with the tea-cups.

"No, he didn't. He did not speak of anything, Chloe. He said he wouldtell all, when he got home."

"Jes like Mas'r George,--he's allers so ferce for tellin' everythinghisself. I allers minded dat ar in Mas'r George. Don't see, for my part,how white people gen'lly can bar to hev to write things much as they do,writin' 's such slow, oneasy kind o' work."

Mrs. Shelby smiled.

"I'm a thinkin' my old man won't know de boys and de baby. Lor'! she'sde biggest gal, now,--good she is, too, and peart, Polly is. She's outto the house, now, watchin' de hoe-cake. I 's got jist de very patternmy old man liked so much, a bakin'. Jist sich as I gin him the mornin'he was took off. Lord bless us! how I felt, dat ar morning!"

Mrs. Shelby sighed, and felt a heavy weight on her heart, at thisallusion. She had felt uneasy, ever since she received her son's letter,lest something should prove to be hidden behind the veil of silencewhich he had drawn.

"Missis has got dem bills?" said Chloe, anxiously.

"Yes, Chloe."

"'Cause I wants to show my old man dem very bills de _perfectioner_gave me. 'And,' say he, 'Chloe, I wish you'd stay longer.' 'Thankyou, Mas'r,' says I, 'I would, only my old man's coming home, andMissis,--she can't do without me no longer.' There's jist what I telledhim. Berry nice man, dat Mas'r Jones was."

Chloe had pertinaciously insisted that the very bills in which her wageshad been paid should be preserved, to show her husband, in memorial ofher capability. And Mrs. Shelby had readily consented to humor her inthe request.

"He won't know Polly,--my old man won't. Laws, it's five year since theytuck him! She was a baby den,--couldn't but jist stand. Remember howtickled he used to be, cause she would keep a fallin' over, when she sotout to walk. Laws a me!"

The rattling of wheels now was heard.

"Mas'r George!" said Aunt Chloe, starting to the window.

Mrs. Shelby ran to the entry door, and was folded in the arms ofher son. Aunt Chloe stood anxiously straining her eyes out into thedarkness.

"O, _poor_ Aunt Chloe!" said George, stopping compassionately, andtaking her hard, black hand between both his; "I'd have given all myfortune to have brought him with me, but he's gone to a better country."

There was a passionate exclamation from Mrs. Shelby, but Aunt Chloe saidnothing.

The party entered the supper-room. The money, of which Chloe was soproud, was still lying on the table.

"Thar," said she, gathering it up, and holding it, with a tremblinghand, to her mistress, "don't never want to see nor hear on 'tagain. Jist as I knew 't would be,--sold, and murdered on dem ar' oldplantations!"

Chloe turned, and was walking proudly out of the room. Mrs. Shelbyfollowed her softly, and took one of her hands, drew her down into achair, and sat down by her.

"My poor, good Chloe!" said she.

Chloe leaned her head on her mistress' shoulder, and sobbed out, "OMissis! 'scuse me, my heart's broke,--dat's all!"

"I know it is," said Mrs. Shelby, as her tears fell fast; "and _I_cannot heal it, but Jesus can. He healeth the broken hearted, andbindeth up their wounds."

There was a silence for some time, and all wept together. At last,George, sitting down beside the mourner, took her hand, and, with simplepathos, repeated the triumphant scene of her husband's death, and hislast messages of love.

About a month after this, one morning, all the servants of the Shelbyestate were convened together in the great hall that ran through thehouse, to hear a few words from their young master.

To the surprise of all, he appeared among them with a bundle of papersin his hand, containing a certificate of freedom to every one on theplace, which he read successively, and presented, amid the sobs andtears and shouts of all present.

Many, however, pressed around him, earnestly begging him not to sendthem away; and, with anxious faces, tendering back their free papers.

"We don't want to be no freer than we are. We's allers had all wewanted. We don't want to leave de ole place, and Mas'r and Missis, andde rest!"

"My good friends," said George, as soon as he could get a silence,"there'll be no need for you to leave me. The place wants as many handsto work it as it did before. We need the same about the house that wedid before. But, you are now free men and free women. I shall pay youwages for your work, such as we shall agree on. The advantage is, thatin case of my getting in debt, or dying,--things that might happen,--youcannot now be taken up and sold. I expect to carry on the estate, andto teach you what, perhaps, it will take you some time to learn,--howto use the rights I give you as free men and women. I expect you to begood, and willing to learn; and I trust in God that I shall be faithful,and willing to teach. And now, my friends, look up, and thank God forthe blessing of freedom."

An aged, partriarchal negro, who had grown gray and blind on the estate,now rose, and, lifting his trembling hand said, "Let us give thanks untothe Lord!" As all kneeled by one consent, a more touching and hearty _TeDeum_ never ascended to heaven, though borne on the peal of organ, belland cannon, than came from that honest old heart.

On rising, another struck up a Methodist hymn, of which the burden was,

"The year of Jubilee is come,-- Return, ye ransomed sinners, home."

"One thing more," said George, as he stopped the congratulations of thethrong; "you all remember our good old Uncle Tom?"

George here gave a short narration of the scene of his death, and of hisloving farewell to all on the place, and added,

"It was on his grave, my friends, that I resolved, before God, that Iwould never own another slave, while it was possible to free him; thatnobody, through me, should ever run the risk of being parted from homeand friends, and dying on a lonely plantation, as he died. So, when yourejoice in your freedom, think that you owe it to that good old soul,and pay it back in kindness to his wife and children. Think of yourfreedom, every time you see UNCLE TOM'S CABIN; and let it be a memorialto put you all in mind to follow in his steps, and be honest andfaithful and Christian as he was."