"If you keep picking on me I'll cut loose and express my opinion of you," he retorted.
"Your opinions have ceased to be important," she answered, with a look of indifference.
"I think this is a clear case of assault and flattery," said Kelso.
"It pains me to look at you," Bim went on.
"Wait until I learn to play the flute and the snare drum," Harry threatened.
"I'm glad that New Salem is so far away," she sighed.
"I'll go and look at the new moon through a knot hole," he laughed.
"My dears, no more of this piping," said Kelso. "Bim must tell us what she has learned of the great evil of slavery. It is most important that Abe should hear it."
Bim told of revolting scenes she had witnessed in St. Louis and New Orleans—of flogging and buying and selling and herding. It was a painful story, the like of which had been traveling over the prairies of Illinois for years. Some had accepted these reports; many, among whom were the most judicious men, had thought they detected in them the note of gross exaggeration. Here, at last, was a witness whose word it was impossible for those who knew her to doubt. Abe put many questions and looked very grave when the testimony was all in.
"If you have any doubt," said Bim, "I ask you to look at that mark on my arm. It was made by the whip of Mr. Eliphalet Biggs."