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Item No. comdagen-6602032538167988822
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It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so early as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner's door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival; when they entered the passage she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of little boys and girls, whose eagerness for their cousin's appearance would not allow them to wait in t

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to leave; and they've took my nigger, which is the only nigger I've got in the world, and now I'm in a strange country, and ain't got no property no more, nor nothing, and no way to make my living;' so I set down and cried.  I slept in the woods all night.  But what _did_ become of the raft, then?--and Jim--poor Jim!” “Blamed if I know--that is, what's become of the raft.  That old fool had made a trade and got forty dollars, and when we found him in the doggery the loafers had matched half-dollars with him and got every cent but what he'd spent for whisky; and when I got him home late last night and found the raft gone, we said, 'That little rascal has stole our raft and shook us, and run off down the river.'” “I wouldn't shake my _nigger_, would I?--the only nigger I had in the world, and the only property.” “We never thought of that.  Fact is, I reckon we'd come to consider him _our_ nigger; yes, we did consider him so--goodness knows we had trouble enough for him.  So when we see the raft was gone and we flat broke, there warn't anything for it but to try the Royal Nonesuch another shake. And I've pegged along ever since, dry as a powder-horn.  Where's that ten cents? Give it here.” I had considerable money, so I give him ten cents, but begged him to spend it for something to eat, and give me some, because it was all the money I had, and I hadn't had nothing to eat since yesterday.  He never said nothing.  The next minute he whirls on me and says: “Do you reckon that nigger would blow on us?  We'd skin him if he done that!” “How can he blow?  Hain't he run off?” “No!  That old fool sold him, and never divided with me, and the money's gone.” “_Sold_ him?”  I says, and begun to cry; “why, he was _my_ nigger, and that was my money.  Where is he?--I want my nigger.” “Well, you can't _get_ your nigger, that's all--so dry up your blubbering. Looky here--do you think _you'd_ venture to blow on us?  Blamed if I think I'd trust you.  Why, if you _was_ to blow o