O, Mr.Shelby, I have tried--tried most faithfully, as a Christian woman should--to do my duty to these poor, simple, dependent creatures.

I have cared for them, instructed them, watched over them, and know all their little cares and joys, for years; and how can I ever hold up my head again among them, if, for the sake of a little paltry gain, we sell such a faithful, excellent, confiding creature as poor Tom, and tear from him in a moment all we have taught him to love and value?
I have taught them the duties of the family, of parent and child, and husband and wife; and how can I bear to have this open acknowledgment that we care for no tie, no duty, no relation, however sacred, compared with money?
I have talked with Eliza about her boy--her duty to him as a Christian mother, to watch over him, pray for him, and bring him up in a Christian way; and now what can I say, if you tear him away, and sell him, soul and body, to a profane, unprincipled man, just to save a little money?
I have told her that one soul is worth more than all the money in the world; and how will she believe me when she sees us turn round and sell her child ?--sell him, perhaps, to certain ruin of body and soul!" "I'm sorry you feel so about it,--indeed I am," said Mr.Shelby; "and I respect your feelings, too, though I don't pretend to share them to their full extent; but I tell you now, solemnly, it's of no use--I can't help myself.

I didn't mean to tell you this Emily; but, in plain words, there is no choice between selling these two and selling everything.
Either they must go, or _all_ must.

Haley has come into possession of a mortgage, which, if I don't clear off with him directly, will take everything before it.

I've raked, and scraped, and borrowed, and all but begged,--and the price of these two was needed to make up the balance, and I had to give them up.