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Show 18 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. cold looks, cold words, and cold trcat1nent. W c ·wE·re glad when the night catne. On n1y narrow bed I moaned and wept, I felt so desolate and alone. I had been there nearly a year, when a dear little friend of mine was buried. I heard her n1othcr sob, as the clods fell on the coffin of her only clril<l, and I turned away fron1 tho grave, feeling thankful that I still had so1ncthing loft to love. I n1ct my gra11d· mother, who said, " Co1no with Inc, Linda; " and from her tone I knew that son1cthing sad had happened. She led n1e apart fro1n the people, and then said, " l\Iy child, your father is dead." Dead ! II ow could I believe it? lie had died so suddenly I had not even heard that he was sick. I ·went ho1nc \vith my grand1nothcr. 11y heart rebelled against God, who had taken fro1n n1e mother, father, 1nistres , and friend. The good grandn1othcr tried to con1fort n1c. " Who knows the \vays of God?" said she. "Perhaps they have been kindly taken fro1n the eYil days to come." Y cars afterwards I often thought of thi.. She pron1ised to be a 1nothcr to her grandchilJrcn, so far as she n1ight be pcrn1ittcd to do so; and trcugLhened by her love, I returned to n1y 1nasLcr's. I thought I should be allo\ved to go to tny father's house the next morning; but I was ordered to go for flowers, that my mistress's house 1night be <lccorn.tcd for an cYcning party. I spent the day gathering flowers and "\Ycaving thc1n into festoons, \vhile the dead body of my father was lying ·within a n1ilc of 1110. \Vhat cared. 1ny owners for that? he was n1erely a piece of property. More~ver, they thought he had spoiled l1is children, by teaclung thern to feel that they were b tun an beings. The New Mafter and Miftress. This was blasphemous doctrine for a slave to teach · . . ' presumptuous In hun, and dangerous to the rna. tors. The next day I followed his rc1uains to a lnunble grave bjside that of my dear mother. There \vcre those who knevv my father's worth, and respected his memory. My home now seo1ned more dreary than ever. The laugh of the little slave-children sounded har h and cruel. It was solfi ·h to feel o about the joy of other·. My brother moved about ·with a very grave face. I tried to comfort hitn, by saying, " Take courao-c vVillic; brighter days will come by and by." o ' " You don't knovv any thing about it, Linda,'' he replied. "W c shall have to stay here all our days; \ve shall never be free." I argued that we wore growing older and stronger, and that perhaps \VC 1night, before long, be allowed to hire our own ti1ue, and then \Ve could earn money to buy our frcc<lon1. VVillia1n declared this was n1uch easier to say than to do; n1oroovcr, he did not intend to buy his frccdo1n. W c held daily controvcrt;ics upon this subject. Little attention was paid to the slaYcs' 1ncals in Dr. Flint's house. If they could catch a bit of food \vhile it ·was going, well aud good. I gave n1ysclf no trouble on that score, for on 1uy various errand I passed n1y grandtnothcr's house, where there \Vas always soinething to spare for Inc. I was frequently threatened with punishment if I stopped there ; and n1y grandn1othcr, to avoid detaining Inc, often stood at the gate with somcthillg for rny breakfast or dinner. I \Vas jndeuteLl to Iter fur all n1y cotnforts, spiritual or temporal. |
