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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com - Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

CHAPTER 22



“The Grass Withereth - The Flower Fadeth.”



LIFE passes, with us all, a day at a time; so it passed with our friend Tom, till
two years were gone. Though parted from all his soul held dear, and though often
yearning for what lay beyond, still was he never positively and consciously miser-
able; for, so well is the harp of human feeling strung, that nothing but a crash that
breaks every string can wholly mar its harmony; and, on looking back to seasons
which in review appear to us as those of deprivation and trial, we can remember
that each hour, as it glided, brought its diversions and alleviations, so that though
not happy wholly, we were not, either, wholly miserable.

Tom read, in his only literary cabinet, of One who had “learned in whatsoever
state He was, therewith to be content.” It seemed to him good and reasonable doc-
trine, and accorded well with the settled and thoughtful habit which he had ac-
quired from the reading of that same book.

His letter homeward, as we related in the last chapter, was in due time an-
swered by Master George, in a good round, school-boy hand, that Tom said might
be read “most acrost the room.” It contained various refreshing items of home in-
telligence, with which our reader is fully acquainted: stated how Aunt Chloe had
been hired out to a confectioner in Louisville, where her skill in the pastry line
was gaining wonderful sums of money, all of which, Tom was informed, was to
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