"Come, boy! ain't you going to say 'good-by' to me 'afore you go? I
hav'nt been a bad master to you," says Graspum, putting out his
hand.
"Yes, master," mutters the child, turning about ere he reaches the
door. He advances towards Graspum, puts out his little hand; and in
saying "good by, master," there is so much childish simplicity in
his manner that it touches the tender chord embalmed within that
iron frame. "Be a good little fellow!" he says, his emotions rising.
How strong are the workings of nature when brought in contact with
unnatural laws! The monster who has made the child wretched--who has
for ever blasted its hopes, shakes it by the hand, and says--"good
by, little 'un!" as it leaves the door to seek the home of a new
purchaser. How strange the thoughts invading that child's mind, as,
a slave for life, it plods its way through the busy thoroughfares!
Forcibly the happy incidents of the past are recalled; they are
touching reclections-sweets in the dark void of a slave's life; but
to him no way-marks, to measure the happy home embalmed therein, are
left.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
WORKINGS OF THE SLAVE SYSTEM.
DEMOCRACY! thy trumpet voice for liberty is ever ringing in our
ears; but thy strange workings defame thee. Thou art rampant in love
of the "popular cause," crushing of that which secures liberty to
all; and, whilst thou art great at demolishing structures, building
firm foundations seems beyond thee, for thereto thou forgetteth to
lay the cornerstone well on the solid rock of principle.
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