I don't seem to get no comfort dat way." "I'm in the Lord's hands," said Tom; "nothin' can go no furder than he lets it;--and thar's _one_ thing I can thank him for.

It's _me_ that's sold and going down, and not you nur the chil'en.

Here you're safe;--what comes will come only on me; and the Lord, he'll help me,--I know he will." Ah, brave, manly heart,--smothering thine own sorrow, to comfort thy beloved ones! Tom spoke with a thick utterance, and with a bitter choking in his throat,--but he spoke brave and strong.
"Let's think on our marcies!" he added, tremulously, as if he was quite sure he needed to think on them very hard indeed.
"Marcies!" said Aunt Chloe; "don't see no marcy in 't! 'tan't right! tan't right it should be so! Mas'r never ought ter left it so that ye _could_ be took for his debts.

Ye've arnt him all he gets for ye, twice over.

He owed ye yer freedom, and ought ter gin 't to yer years ago.
Mebbe he can't help himself now, but I feel it's wrong.