Old Uncle Hampshire [pp. 430-440]

OLD UNCLE HA4MPSHIRE.
dese aggrawatin' tetotellers, dat's notin' to nobody. But, Jake, what are ye
at? Why ain't ye off-standin' dere wid
de filly like ye hadn't half sense? Git
up an' git, dis minit!"
Jake darted off toward the spring, and
the next instant four horsemen were
dimly visible coming in the opposite
direction, and the tramp of the hoofs
through the pine-straw and fallen leaves
was distinctly heard. Obedient to the
order of Uncle Hampshire, the men stationed themselves in the broad hall of
the main building, making the doors as
secure as possible; and, standing in
breathless silence, they awaited the issue. Mrs. Glenn had taken her youngest-scarcely more than a baby-in her
arms, and was smothering every murmur of fear; Kate and Harry, the two
remaining young ones, had betaken themselves to Aunt Chloe's knee, and her
great black arms, bare to the elbows,
were encircling them with a firm, protecting clasp. Mom Phillis, who had a
great knack for meeting emergencies,
was endeavoring to soothe and quiet
Carrie, who, from her conscious helplessness, felt the perils of the hour more
keenly than all the rest. Poor Carrie!
she was a delicate vase of the finest porcelain; so fragile had she been from
birth that it seemed a rude breath might
waft her away. Had she been a veritable princess of the blood, she could not
have received more of worshipful adoration, but the incense rose from voluntary
altars. She was a tender, sweet-voiced
idyl incarnated in female form, full of the
opulence of being from birth a spiritual
rather than a physical vitality. Her
sympathies were boundless, and she
lived so really and intently in the lives
of all about her as to become an omnipresent spirit of gentleness and love.
She was one of those who unconsciously exact a devotion so supreme that
service, when needed, is rendered as a
coveted privilege and delight. She was
equipped with the sacramental elements
of self-forgetfulness and unselfish affection. Her heart was affluent with pity;
her love had budded early, like the crocuses of spring, and she had wedded the
companion of her girlhood, nearly a year
before this, though now scarcely more
than a child. It had been the sorrow of
her life to see her handsome young husband equipped for the field, and yet her
true womanly heart hid its anguish, as
he whispered in her ear, "Keep brave
and cheery, darling, for the sake of your
own precious health, and that of our expected little pet." Hers was not a nature to croon over and nurse a morbid
grief; there was a bright and sunny
spontaneity, born of a clear-eyed faith
and hope, that made her a perpetual joy.
There was a cheerful strength in that
exquisite face-firmness as well as fineness. She was a gentle spirit of mediation about the place, and possessed a
native genius for adjusting and harmonizing opposing natures. The elevation
and repose of her character admirably
fitted her for the work; for, back of all
her apparent yielding and gentleness of
demeanor, there was a wonderful latent
strength and energy of will. She had
been a dispensation of goodness to the
Colored folks on the plantation; reading
to them, teaching them hymns, ministering to them when sick, looking after the
swarms of little, black pickaninnies that
thronged the yards, and divining, by a
sort of subtile intuition, the hundred
nameless wants that would have passed
unheeded-never failing to discover a
means of relieving them-until, in the
mirage of their enthusiastic love, they
really believed her to be an angel.
Her ardent, susceptible nature, and
exquisite sensibility, could not for an instant brook the slightest shade of injustice, or oppression. This spirit was a
natural inheritance from both parents.
In Carrie was blended the characteristics of both father and mother: the
1872.]
435