“What is to be done with her, then?” said Miss Ophelia.

“You have started a serious question,” said St. Clare; “I wish you’d answer it.  What is to be done with a human being that can be governed only by the lash,—­that fails,—­it’s a very common state of things down here!”

“I’m sure I don’t know; I never saw such a child as this.”

“Such children are very common among us, and such men and women, too.  How are they to be governed?” said St. Clare.

“I’m sure it’s more than I can say,” said Miss Ophelia.

“Or I either,” said St. Clare.  “The horrid cruelties and outrages that once and a while find their way into the papers,—­such cases as Prue’s, for example,—­what do they come from?  In many cases, it is a gradual hardening process on both sides,—­the owner growing more and more cruel, as the servant more and more callous.  Whipping and abuse are like laudanum; you have to double the dose as the sensibilities decline.  I saw this very early when I became an owner; and I resolved never to begin, because I did not know when I should stop,—­and I resolved, at least, to protect my own moral nature.  The consequence is, that my servants act like spoiled children; but I think that better than for us both to be brutalized together.  You have talked a great deal about our responsibilities in educating, Cousin.  I really wanted you to try with one child, who is a specimen of thousands among us.”

“It is your system makes such children,” said Miss Ophelia.

“I know it; but they are made,—­they exist,—­and what is to be done with them?”

“Well, I can’t say I thank you for the experiment.  But, then, as it appears to be a duty, I shall persevere and try, and do the best I can,” said Miss Ophelia; and Miss Ophelia, after this, did labor, with a commendable degree of zeal and energy, on her new subject.  She instituted regular hours and employments for her, and undertook to teach her to read and sew.

In the former art, the child was quick enough.  She learned her letters as if by magic, and was very soon able to read plain reading; but the sewing was a more difficult matter.  The creature was as lithe as a cat, and as active as a monkey, and the confinement of sewing was her abomination; so she broke her needles, threw them slyly out of the window, or down in chinks of the walls; she tangled, broke, and dirtied her thread, or, with a sly movement, would throw a spool away altogether.  Her motions were almost as quick as those of a practised conjurer, and her command of her face quite as great; and though Miss Ophelia could not help feeling that so many accidents could not possibly happen in succession, yet she could not, without a watchfulness which would leave her no time for anything else, detect her.