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Uncle Tom's Cabin | Harriet Beecher Stowe | |
The Mother's Struggle |
Page 3 of 10 |
An hour before sunset, she entered the village of T----, by the Ohio river, weary and foot-sore, but still strong in heart. Her first glance was at the river, which lay, like Jordan, between her and the Canaan of liberty on the other side. It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and turbulent; great cakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and fro in the turbid waters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore on the Kentucky side, the land bending far out into the water, the ice had been lodged and detained in great quantities, and the narrow channel which swept round the bend was full of ice, piled one cake over another, thus forming a temporary barrier to the descending ice, which lodged, and formed a great, undulating raft, filling up the whole river, and extending almost to the Kentucky shore. Eliza stood, for a moment, contemplating this unfavorable aspect of things, which she saw at once must prevent the usual ferry-boat from running, and then turned into a small public house on the bank, to make a few inquiries. The hostess, who was busy in various fizzing and stewing operations over the fire, preparatory to the evening meal, stopped, with a fork in her hand, as Eliza's sweet and plaintive voice arrested her. "What is it?" she said. "Isn't there any ferry or boat, that takes people over to B----, now?" she said. "No, indeed!" said the woman; "the boats has stopped running." Eliza's look of dismay and disappointment struck the woman, and she said, inquiringly, "May be you're wanting to get over?--anybody sick? Ye seem mighty anxious?" |
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Uncle Tom's Cabin Harriet Beecher Stowe |
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