Nicholas, less moved by
what is going on around him, hangs reluctantly behind, holding by
the skirt of Annette's frock. He has lost that vivacity and pertness
so characteristic on the plantation. Happy picture of freedom's
love! Happy picture of immortalised injustice! Happy picture of
everything that is unhappy! How modest is the boast that we live to
be free; and that in our virtuous freedom a child's mother has been
sold for losing her mind: a faithful divine, strong with love for
his fellow divines, is to be sold for his faith; the child-the
daughter of the democrat-they say, will be sold from her democratic
father. The death-stinging enemy Washington and Jefferson sought to
slaughter-to lay ever dead at their feet, has risen to life again.
Annette's mother has fled to escape its poison. We must pause! we
must not discourse thus in our day, when the sordid web of trade is
being drawn over the land by King Cotton.
The children, like all such doubtful stock, are considered very
fancy, very choice of their kind. It must be dressed in style to
suit nice eyes at the shambles.
"Well! ye'r right interesting looking," says the sheriff--Messrs.
Graspum and Co. look upon them with great concern, now and then
interrupting with some observations upon their pedigree,--taking them
by the arms, and again rumpling their hair by rubbing his hands over
their heads. "Fix it up, trim; we must put them up along with the
rest to-day. It 'll make Marston--I pity the poor fellow--show his
hand on the question of their freedom.
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