Among the passengers was a pretty little girl, about six years old. She
had beautiful golden hair, and big blue eyes. She ran about here, there,
and everywhere, dancing and laughing like a little fairy. There were
other children on board, but not one so pretty or so merry as she. She
was always dressed in white, and Tom thought she looked like a little
angel, as she danced and ran about.

Often and often she would come and walk sadly around the place where the
poor slaves sat in their chains. She would look pityingly at them, and
then go slowly away. Once or twice she came with her dress full of
sweets, nuts, and oranges, and gave them all some.

Tom watched the little lady, and tried to make friends with her. His
pockets were full of all kinds of things, with which he used to amuse
his old master's children.

He could make whistles of every sort and size, cut baskets out of
cherry-stones, faces out of nut-shells, jumping figures out of bits of
wood. He brought these out one by one, and though the little girl was
shy at first, they soon grew to be great friends.

'What is missy's name?' said Tom one day.

'Evangeline St. Clare,' said the little girl; 'though papa and everybody
else call me Eva. Now, what's your name?'

'My name's Tom. The little chil'en at my old home used to call me Uncle
Tom.'

'Then I mean to call you Uncle Tom, because, you see, I like you,' said