"Well, now, _good-by_," said George, holding Eliza's hands, and gazing
into her eyes, without moving. They stood silent; then there were last
words, and sobs, and bitter weeping,--such parting as those may make
whose hope to meet again is as the spider's web,--and the husband and
wife were parted.



CHAPTER IV

An Evening in Uncle Tom's Cabin


The cabin of Uncle Tom was a small log building, close adjoining to "the
house," as the negro _par excellence_ designates his master's dwelling.
In front it had a neat garden-patch, where, every summer, strawberries,
raspberries, and a variety of fruits and vegetables, flourished under
careful tending. The whole front of it was covered by a large
scarlet bignonia and a native multiflora rose, which, entwisting and
interlacing, left scarce a vestige of the rough logs to be seen. Here,
also, in summer, various brilliant annuals, such as marigolds, petunias,
four-o'clocks, found an indulgent corner in which to unfold their
splendors, and were the delight and pride of Aunt Chloe's heart.

Let us enter the dwelling. The evening meal at the house is over, and
Aunt Chloe, who presided over its preparation as head cook, has left
to inferior officers in the kitchen the business of clearing away and
washing dishes, and come out into her own snug territories, to "get her
ole man's supper"; therefore, doubt not that it is her you see by the
fire, presiding with anxious interest over certain frizzling items in