Bad Hugh

It was Saturday night again, and Adah, with heavy eyes and throbbing

head, sat bending over the dazzling silk, which 'Lina had coaxed her to

make.

'Lina could be very gracious when she chose, and as she saw a way by

which Adah might be useful to her, she chose to be so now, and treated

the unsuspecting girl so kindly, that Adah promised to undertake the

task, which proved a harder one than she had anticipated. Anxious to

gratify 'Lina, and keep what she was doing a secret from Hugh, who came

to the cottage often, she was obliged to work early and late, bending

over the dress by the dim candlelight until her head seemed bursting

with pain, and rings of fire danced before her eyes. She never would

have succeeded but for Uncle Sam, who proved a most efficient member of

the household, fitting in every niche and corner, until Aunt Eunice,

with all her New England aversion to negroes, wondered how she had ever

lived without him. Particularly did he attach himself to Willie,

relieving Adah from all care, and thus enabling her to devote every

spare moment to the party dress.

"You'se workin' yourself to death," he said to her, as late on Saturday

night she sat bending to the tallow candle, her hair brushed back from

her forehead and a purplish glow upon her cheek.

"I know I'm working too hard," she said. "I'm very tired, but Monday is

the party. Oh, I am so hot and feverish," and, as if even the slender

chain of gold about her neck were a burden, she undid the clasp, and

laid upon the stand the locket which had so interested Hugh.

Naturally inquisitive Sam took it in his hand, and touching the spring

held it to the light, uttering an exclamation of surprise.

"Dat's de bery one, and no mistake," he said, his old withered face

lighting up with eager joy.

"Who is she, Sam?" Adah asked, forgetting her work in her new interest.

"Miss Ellis. I done forgot de other name. Ellis they call her way down

thar whar Sam was sold, when dat man with the big splot on his forerd

like that is on your'n steal me away and sell me in Virginny. Miss, ever

hearn tell o' dat? We thinks he's takin' a bee line for Canada, when

fust we knows we's in ole Virginny, and de villain not freein' us at

all. He sell us. Me he most give away, 'case I was so old, and the mas'r

who buy some like Mas'r Hugh, he pity, he sorry for ole shaky nigger.

Sam tell him on his knees how he comed from Kaintuck, but Mas'r Sullivan

say he bought 'em far, and that the right mas'r sell 'em sneakin' like

to save rasin' a furse, and he show a bill of sale. They believe him

spite of dis chile, and so Sam 'long to anodder mas'r."