In truth, Grabguy, niggers are more like mules nor anything
else, 'cause the brute 'll do everything but what ye wants him to
do, afore he's subdued. You must break them when they are young.
About ten or a dozen welts, sir, well laid on when ye first begin,
and every time he don't toe the mark, will, in the course of a year,
make him as submissive as a spaniel-it will! The virtue of
submission is in the lash, it supples like seeds."
"About the stock, Graspum: I don't quite agree with you about
that,--I never believed in blood, ye know. As far as this imp goes, I
have my doubts about the blood doin on him much good; seein' how it
kind o' comes across my mind that there's some Ingin in him. Now, if
my philosophy serves me right, Ingin blood makes slave property want
to run away (the speaker spreads himself with great nonchalance),
the very worst fault."
"Poh! poh!-isn't a bit o' that about him. That imp 's from Marston's
estate, can't scare up nothin so promisin' in the way of likely
colour," Graspum interposes, with great assurance of manner. "You
didn't see the gal-did you?" he concludes.
"I reckon I've taken a squint at both on 'em! Pretty fine and
likely. From the same bankrupt concern, I s'pose?" Mr. Grabguy looks
quite serious, and waits for a reply.
"Yes-nothing less," Graspum replies, measuredly. "But won't it make
your eye water, neighbour Grabguy, one of these days! Bring a tall
price among some of our young bucks, eh!" He gives neighbour Grabguy
a significant touch on the arm, and that gentleman turns his head
and smiles.
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