Kentuck
Ourreadersmaynotbeunwillingtoglanceback，forabriefinterval，atUncleTom’sCabin，ontheKentuckyfarm，andseewhathasbeentranspiringamongthosewhomhehadleftbehind。
Itwaslateinthesummerafternoon，andthedoorsandwindowsofthelargeparlorallstoodopen，toinviteanystraybreeze，thatmightfeelinagoodhumor，toenter。Mr。Shelbysatinalargehallopeningintotheroom，andrunningthroughthewholelengthofthehouse，toabalconyoneitherend。Leisurelytippedbackononechair，withhisheelsinanother，hewasenjoyinghisafter-dinnercigar。Mrs。Shelbysatinthedoor，busyaboutsomefinesewing；sheseemedlikeonewhohadsomethingonhermind，whichshewasseekinganopportunitytointroduce。
“Doyouknow，”shesaid，“thatChloehashadaletterfromTom？”
“Ah！hasshe？Tom’sgotsomefriendthere，itseems。Howistheoldboy？”