"Lor, child!" returns the negro, with a significant smile, "take ye
down to old massa what own 'um! Fo'h true!"
"Own me!" mutters the child, surlily. "How can they own me without
owning my mother?--and I've no father."
"White man great 'losipher; he know so much, dat nigger don't know
nofin," is the singularly significant answer.
"But God didn't make me for a nigger,--did he?"
"Don' know how dat is, child. 'Pears like old mas'r tink da' ain't
no God; and what he sees in yander good book lef 'um do just as 'e
mind to wid nigger. Sometimes Buckra sell nigger by de pound, just
like 'e sell pig; and den 'e say 't was wid de Lord's will."
"If mas'r Lord be what Buckra say he be, dis child don' want t'be
'quainted wid 'um," he coolly dilates, as if he foresees the
mournful result of the child's bright endowments.
The negro tries to quiet the child's apprehensions by telling him he
thinks "Buckra, what's waiting down in da'h office, gwine t' buy 'um
of old mas'r. Know dat Buckra he sharp feller. Get e' eye on ye, and
make up 'e mind what 'e gwine to give fo'h 'um, quicker!" says the
negro.
Graspum has invited his customer, Mr. Grabguy, into his more
comfortable counting-room, where, as Nicholas is led in, they may be
found discussing the rights of the south, as guaranteed by the
federal constitution. The south claim rights independent of the
north; and those rights are to secede from the wrongs of the north
whenever she takes into her head the very simple notion of carrying
them out.
Pages:
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579