Life in the Dismal Swamp.
. . . .Thirty-five miles I was sep'rated from my wife, buildina house for overseer. ‘Casionally I was permitted to go home.
De las' time (I remember it ‘stinctly) when I seed her, I telled her I would come back agin in four weeks. Arter I had worked four weeks, de overseer would n't let me go; so I waited and axed him sever'l times.
I knowed my wife would keep ‘spectina me and ‘spectina me till I comed.
I begged de overseer one dey to jist let me go home; for I hadn't seen my wife den for seven weeks. He got orful vexed at me, and writed to my mass'r ‘bout me.
Arterward de overseer's wife was mad wit Charity, an my brudder hearn her treaten to send Charity to
Richmond, whar my mass'r was agoina to send me to be selled.
My brudder telled me now was my time to make clar, or else I'd be hussled off ‘fore I knowed it.
Dat mornina de overseer comed whar I be, an' axed me: “Charlie, I want ye to come to de house an work; cellar steps need ‘pairina, as da ‘bout given way, and old Charity fell down dem to'der day, and like to have broken her ole thick skull; ‘specks she will yet, boy, less ye impair dem. Ye better come right up, Charley, and dood it.”
Now I jist knowed dat ole coon was tryina to lay wait to ketch me, to tie me so he'd sell me down Souf.
I didn't live wid old Hunker for not'in‘, I tort; and as I did n't never ‘spect much else but my larnina from him, I bet ye I laid out to make all my larnina tell.
Slavery teaches some t'ings you does n't
