Magazine for the young, Tomy 10-111851 |
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Strona 312 - Couldn't never be nothin' but a nigger, if I was ever so good," said Topsy. "If I could be skinned, and come white, I'd try then." "But people can love you, if you are black, Topsy. Miss Ophelia would love you if you were good.
Strona 313 - I will try; I never did care nothin' about it before." St. Clare, at this instant, dropped the curtain. "It puts me in mind of mother," he said to Miss Ophelia. "It is true what she told me; if we want to give sight to the blind, we must be willing to do as Christ did, — call them to us, and put our hands on them.
Strona 15 - No man can serve two masters, ye cannot serve God and mammon
Strona 313 - There can't nobody love niggers, and niggers can't do nothin'! / don't care," said Topsy, beginning to whistle. "O, Topsy, poor child, I love you! " said Eva, with a sudden burst of feeling, and laying her little thin, white hand on Topsy's shoulder, "I love you, because you haven't had any father, or mother, or friends, - because you've been a poor, abused child! I love you, and I want you to be good.
Strona 243 - EVERY morning the red sun, Rises warm and bright, But the evening cometh on, And the dark cold night. There's a bright land far away, Where 'tis never-ending day.
Strona 313 - I shall be with you." The round, keen eyes of the black child were overcast with tears ; — large, bright drops rolled heavily down, one by one, and fell on the little white hand. Yes, in that moment, a ray of real belief, a ray of heavenly love, had penetrated the darkness of her heathen soul ! She laid her head down between her knees, and wept and sobbed, — while the beautiful child, bending over her, looked like the picture of some bright angel stooping to reclaim a sinner.
Strona 83 - The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, And all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field : The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: . Because the spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it: Surely the people is grass. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: But the word of our God shall stand for ever.
Strona 312 - Don't you see how much Miss Ophelia has done for you? She says she has done everything she can think of." "Lor, yes, Mas'r! old Missis used to say so, too. She whipped me a heap harder, and used to pull my har, and knock my head agin the door; but it didn't do me no good! I spects, if they's to pull every spear o' har out o' my head, it wouldn't do no good, neither, — I's so wicked!
Strona 63 - Another troop of wild dogs were fighting over the wildebeest I had shot, which they had begun to devour. On beholding them I expected no other fate than to be instantly torn to pieces and consumed. I felt my blood curdling along my cheeks and my hair bristling on my head. However, I had presence of mind to consider that the human voice and a determined bearing might overawe them, and accordingly, springing to my feet, I stepped on to the little ledge surrounding the hole, where, drawing myself up...
Strona 63 - I had not slept long when my light dreams were influenced by strange sounds. I dreamt that lions were rushing about in quest of me, and, the sounds increasing, I awoke with a sudden start, uttering a loud shriek. I could not for several seconds remember in what part of the world I was, or anything connected with my present position.