Uncle Tom's cabin / Хижина дяди Тома. Книга для чтения на английском языке

”

“I suppose Jinny thought they were ever so nice,” said George.

“Thought so! – did n’t she? Thar she was, showing ’em, as innocent – ye see, it’s jest here, Jinny don’t know. Lor, the family an’t nothing! She can’t be spected to know! �Ta’nt no fault o’ hern. Ah, Mas’r George, you does n’t know half your privileges in yer family and bringin’ up!” Here Aunt Chloe sighed, and rolled up her eyes with emotion.

“I’m sure, Aunt Chloe, I understand all my pie and pudding privileges,” said George.

Aunt Chloe sat back in her chair, and indulged in a hearty guffaw of laughter, at this witticism ofyoung Mas’r’s, laughing till the tears rolled down her black, shining cheeks, and varying the exercise with playfully slapping and poking Mas’r Georgey, and telling him to go way, and that he was a case – that he was fit to kill her, and that he sartin would kill her, one of these days; and, between each of these sanguinary predictions, going off into a laugh, each longer and stronger than the other, till George really began to think that he was a very dangerously witty fellow, and that it became him to be careful how he talked �as funny as he could.

“And so ye telled Tom, did ye? O, Lor! what young uns will be up ter! Ye crowed over Tom? O, Lor! Mas’r George, if ye would n’t make a hornbug laugh!”

“Yes,” said George, “I says to him, �Tom, you ought to see some ofAunt Chloe’s pies; they’re the right sort,’ says I.

“Pity, now, Tom could n’t,” said Aunt Chloe, on whose benevolent heart the idea of Tom’s benighted condition seemed to make a strong impression. “Ye oughter just ask him here to dinner, some o’ these times, Mas’r George,” she added; “it would look quite pretty of ye. Ye know, Mas’r George, ye oughtenter feel ’bove nobody, on ’count yer privileges, ’cause all our privileges is gi’n to us; we ought al’ays to ’member that,” said Aunt Chloe, looking quite serious.

“Well, I mean to ask Tom here, some day next week,” said George; “and you do your prettiest, Aunt Chloe, and we’ll make him stare. Won’t we make him eat so he won’t get over it for a fortnight?”

“Yes, yes – sartin,” said Aunt Chloe, delighted; “you’ll see.