If it's so mighty valuable I guess Legree would be taking care of it himself.
Her master is Mr. Legree, who owns a cotton plantation on the Red River.
His cheeks were crimson, and his eye flashed fire at the thought that Legree had dared to treat dear Uncle Tom so badly.
As she delivered it, Legree looked in her eyes with a sneering yet inquiring glance.
Legree brought his hand around and boxed the boy's ears—for "Little Eva," in this case, was a boy of nine.
When he was gone, Legree seemed a little ashamed of his fit of alarm.
If it's so valuable, why didn't Legree take care of it himself?
Legree stopped at the foot of the stairs, and heard a voice singing.
The saddest part of this book would be, (if they were just,) the inferences to be drawn from the history of this wretch, Legree.
Legree turned away, determined to let the point go for the time.