I know it can't.

It's always safest, all round, to _do as He_ bids us.
"Now, listen to me, Mary, and I can state to you a very clear argument, to show--" "O, nonsense, John! you can talk all night, but you wouldn't do it.
I put it to you, John,--would _you_ now turn away a poor, shivering, hungry creature from your door, because he was a runaway?
_Would_ you, now ?" Now, if the truth must be told, our senator had the misfortune to be a man who had a particularly humane and accessible nature, and turning away anybody that was in trouble never had been his forte; and what was worse for him in this particular pinch of the argument was, that his wife knew it, and, of course was making an assault on rather an indefensible point.

So he had recourse to the usual means of gaining time for such cases made and provided; he said "ahem," and coughed several times, took out his pocket-handkerchief, and began to wipe his glasses.

Mrs.Bird, seeing the defenceless condition of the enemy's territory, had no more conscience than to push her advantage.
"I should like to see you doing that, John--I really should! Turning a woman out of doors in a snowstorm, for instance; or may be you'd take her up and put her in jail, wouldn't you?
You would make a great hand at that!" "Of course, it would be a very painful duty," began Mr.Bird, in a moderate tone.
"Duty, John! don't use that word! You know it isn't a duty--it can't be a duty! If folks want to keep their slaves from running away, let 'em treat 'em well,--that's my doctrine.

If I had slaves (as I hope I never shall have), I'd risk their wanting to run away from me, or you either, John.