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Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)

"Our World, Or, the Slaveholder's Daughter"

Now,
the exacting reader may question Rosebrook's intrepidity in not
proceeding at once to the rescue of the victim; but when we say that
he was ignorant of the positive order given the keeper, and only
caught distinctly the words-"I'll send my nigger fellow, Joe, with
an order for her!" they may discover an excuse for his hastily
withdrawing from the establishment. Indeed, that my reader may
withhold his censure, it may be well to add that he did this in
order to devise more strategical means of effecting her escape.
And now, ye who have nerves-let them not be shaken; let not your
emotions rise, ye who have souls, and love the blessings of liberty;
let not mothers nor fathers weep over democracy's wrongs; nor let
man charge us with picturing the horrors of a black romance when we
introduce the spectacle in the room of punishments: such, be it
known, is not our business, nor would we trifle unjustly with the
errors of society; but, if chivalry have blushes, we do not object
to their being used here. The keeper, followed by Blowers, enters a
small room at the further end of the passage. It is some sixteen
feet long by twelve wide, and proportionately high of ceiling. The
pale light of a tallow candle, suspended from the ceiling by a wire,
and from which large flakes of the melted grease lay cone-like on
the pine floor, discloses the gloom, and discovers hanging from the
walls, grim with smoke, sundry curious caps, cords, leathern cats,
and the more improved paddles of wood, with flat blades.


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