was a man, they shouldn't do it,--they should
not, _so_!" said George, with a kind of subdued howl.

"O! Mas'r George! this does me good!" said Tom. "I couldn't bar to go
off without seein' ye! It does me real good, ye can't tell!" Here Tom
made some movement of his feet, and George's eye fell on the fetters.

"What a shame!" he exclaimed, lifting his hands. "I'll knock that old
fellow down--I will!"

"No you won't, Mas'r George; and you must not talk so loud. It won't
help me any, to anger him."

"Well, I won't, then, for your sake; but only to think of it--isn't it
a shame? They never sent for me, nor sent me any word, and, if it hadn't
been for Tom Lincon, I shouldn't have heard it. I tell you, I blew 'em
up well, all of 'em, at home!"

"That ar wasn't right, I'm 'feard, Mas'r George."

"Can't help it! I say it's a shame! Look here, Uncle Tom," said he,
turning his back to the shop, and speaking in a mysterious tone, _"I've
brought you my dollar!"_

"O! I couldn't think o' takin' on 't, Mas'r George, no ways in the
world!" said Tom, quite moved.

"But you _shall_ take it!" said George; "look here--I told Aunt Chloe
I'd do it, and she advised me just to make a hole in it, and put a
string through, so you could hang it round your neck, and keep it out of
sight; else this mean scamp would take it away. I tell ye, Tom, I want
to blow him up! it would do me good!"

"No, don't Mas'r George, for it won't do _me_ any good."

"Well, I won't, for your sake," said George, busily tying his dollar
round Tom's neck; "but there, now, button your coat tight over it, and
keep it, and remember, every time you see it, that I'll come down after
you, and bring you back. Aunt Chloe and I have been talking about it. I
told her not to fear; I'll see to it, and I'll tease father's life out,
if he don't do it."

"O! Mas'r George, ye mustn't talk so 'bout yer father!"

"Lor, Uncle Tom, I don't mean anything bad."

"And now, Mas'r George," said Tom, "ye must be a good boy; 'member how
many hearts is sot on ye. Al'ays keep close to yer mother. Don't be
gettin' into any of them foolish ways boys has of gettin' too big to
mind their mothers. Tell ye what, Mas'r George, the Lord gives good many
things twice over; but he don't give ye a mother but once. Ye'll never
see sich another woman, Mas'r George, if ye live to be a hundred years
old. So, now, you hold on to her, and grow up, and be a comfort to her,
thar's my own good boy,--you