142 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN; OR
Mr. Wilson's mind was one of those that may not unaptly be represented by a bale of cotton, — downy, soft, benevolently fuzzy and confused. He really pitied George with all his heart, and had a sort of dim and cloudy perception of the style of feeling that agitated him; but he deemed it his duty to go on talking good to him, with infinite pertinacity.
" George, this is bad. I must tell you, you know, as a friend, you 'd better not be meddling with such notions ; they are bad, George, very bad, for boys in your condition, — very ; " and Mr. Wilson sat down to a table, and began nervously chewing the handle of his umbrella.
" See here, now, Mr. Wilson," said George, coming up and seating himself determinately down in front of him ; " look at me, now. Don't I sit before you, every way, just as much a man as you are ? Look at my face, — look at my hands, — look at my body," and the young man drew himself up proudly; "why am I not a man, as much as anybody ? Well, Mr. Wilson, hear what I can tell you. I had a father — one of your Kentucky gentlemen — who did n't think enough of me to keep me from being sold with his dogs and horses, to satisfy the estate, when he died. I saw my mother put up at sheriff's sale, with her seven children. They were sold before her eyes, one by one, all to different masters ; and I was the youngest. She came and kneeled down before old Mas'r, and begged him to buy her with me, that she might have at least one child with her ; and he kicked her away with his heavy boot. I saw him do it; and the last that I heard was her moans and screams, when I was tied to his horse's neck, to be carried off to his place."
" Well, then ? "
" My master traded with one of the men, and bought my oldest sister. She was a pious, good girl, — a member of the Baptist Church, — and as handsome as my poor mother had been. She was well brought up, and had good manners. At first, I was glad she was bought, for I had