After a while Clara came in, and I was charmed at a glance—a most lovely creature, in deep mourning, with beautiful manners; so much interested for the poor slaves! so full of feeling, inquiring so anxiously what she could do for them!
"Do ministers ever hold slaves?" she said.
"0, yes; many."
"0! But how can they be Christians?"
"They reason in this way," said I; "they say, 'These people are not fit to take care of themselves; therefore we must hold them, and educate them, till they are fit to be free.'"
"I wish," said she, looking very pretty and fierce, "that they might all be sold themselves, and see how they would like it."
Her husband, who speaks only French, now asked what we were talking about, and she repeated the conversation.
"I would shoot every one of them," said he, with a significant movement.
"Now, see," said Mrs. De Wette, "Clara would sell them, and her husband would shoot them; for my part, I would rather convert them." We all laughed at this sally.
"Ah," said Clara, "the last thing my little darling looked at was the pictures in Uncle Tom; when she came to the death of Eva, she said, 'Now I am weary, I will go to sleep;' and so closed her eyes, and never opened them more."