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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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South River, Ga. (Georgia, United States) (search for this): chapter 47
N.--Iss, massa. What wages you gib? F. M.--Wages, you rascal? Quart of corn a day, and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours of work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and fifteen the other half. Laws of South-Carolina. T. C. N.--Any priv'leges, massa? F. M.--Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sold down South when I please, and of being converted by any parson whom I choose to allow. T. C. N.--Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, mass? F. M.--Ha! ha! ha! Yes — till I or Mr. Overseer want them. But you have the privilege of taking another wife as often as I allow it, and of having as many children as it pays me to bring up. T. C. N.--Beg pardon, massa, but what for you call me servant hired for life? F. M.--What for, you rascal? Because a great man, after whom I named you, when he
South Carolina (South Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 47
. T. C. N.--Iss, massa. What wages you gib? F. M.--Wages, you rascal? Quart of corn a day, and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours of work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and fifteen the other half. Laws of South-Carolina. T. C. N.--Any priv'leges, massa? F. M.--Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sol or the day. T. C. N.--Massa, if him book good book, why's I not priv'leged to learn read it? F. M.--Read, you infernal scoundrel! Why, if any one were to help you to learn, the law gives him fine and imprisonment or lashes, Laws of South-Carolina. and what do you suppose you'd get? So off with you----. Stay — how old is that yellow nigger, your wife's daughter? T. C. N.--Born three weeks ‘fore Miss Susy, massa. F. M.--She'll fetch a right smart price at Mobile, now that New-Orl
Mobile, Ala. (Alabama, United States) (search for this): chapter 47
he difference between you and those mean, white-livered Yankee working-men, who are hired by the month or the day. T. C. N.--Massa, if him book good book, why's I not priv'leged to learn read it? F. M.--Read, you infernal scoundrel! Why, if any one were to help you to learn, the law gives him fine and imprisonment or lashes, Laws of South-Carolina. and what do you suppose you'd get? So off with you----. Stay — how old is that yellow nigger, your wife's daughter? T. C. N.--Born three weeks ‘fore Miss Susy, massa. F. M.--She'll fetch a right smart price at Mobile, now that New-Orleans-- T. C. N. (Aside while passing away)--Dey say de Yankees an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. Wish dey'd gib me a rifle ‘fore I dies. --Macmillan's Magazine. Carlyle and his nutshell. Carlyle pours the dregs of his once fertile brain In a nutshell, the great cause of Freedom to stain; But the gall he has used foils the foolish attack, And dyes himself darker than African-b
New Orleans (Louisiana, United States) (search for this): chapter 47
e difference between you and those mean, white-livered Yankee working-men, who are hired by the month or the day. T. C. N.--Massa, if him book good book, why's I not priv'leged to learn read it? F. M.--Read, you infernal scoundrel! Why, if any one were to help you to learn, the law gives him fine and imprisonment or lashes, Laws of South-Carolina. and what do you suppose you'd get? So off with you----. Stay — how old is that yellow nigger, your wife's daughter? T. C. N.--Born three weeks ‘fore Miss Susy, massa. F. M.--She'll fetch a right smart price at Mobile, now that New-Orleans-- T. C. N. (Aside while passing away)--Dey say de Yankees an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. Wish dey'd gib me a rifle ‘fore I dies. --Macmillan's Magazine. Carlyle and his nutshell. Carlyle pours the dregs of his once fertile brain In a nutshell, the great cause of Freedom to stain; But the gall he has used foils the foolish attack, And dyes himself darker than African-b
Dan (search for this): chapter 47
Servitude for life: an answer to Thomas Carlyle by J. M. Ludlow. Frederick Maximus--Harkee here, Dan, you black nigger rascal. You're no longer a slave, you're a servant hired for life. T. C. Nigger--By golly! Wife and chil'n servants for life too, massa? F. M.--Yes, all you niggers. But you must work all the same, you know. T. C. N.--Iss, massa. What wages you gib? F. M.--Wages, you rascal? Quart of corn a day, and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours of work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and fifteen the other half. Laws of South-Carolina. T. C. N.--Any priv'leges, massa? F. M.--Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sold down South when I please, and of being converted by any parson whom I choose to allow. T. C. N.--Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, mass? F. M.--Ha!
T. C. Nigger (search for this): chapter 47
Servitude for life: an answer to Thomas Carlyle by J. M. Ludlow. Frederick Maximus--Harkee here, Dan, you black nigger rascal. You're no longer a slave, you're a servant hired for life. T. C. Nigger--By golly! Wife and chil'n servants for life too, massa? F. M.--Yes, all you niggers. But you must work all the same, you know. T. C. N.--Iss, massa. What wages you gib? F. M.--Wages, you rascal? Quart of corn a day, and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours of work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and fifteen the other half. Laws of South-Carolina. T. C. N.--Any priv'leges, massa? F. M.--Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sold down South when I please, and of being converted by any parson whom I choose to allow. T. C. N.--Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, mass? F. M.--Ha!
Susy (search for this): chapter 47
e difference between you and those mean, white-livered Yankee working-men, who are hired by the month or the day. T. C. N.--Massa, if him book good book, why's I not priv'leged to learn read it? F. M.--Read, you infernal scoundrel! Why, if any one were to help you to learn, the law gives him fine and imprisonment or lashes, Laws of South-Carolina. and what do you suppose you'd get? So off with you----. Stay — how old is that yellow nigger, your wife's daughter? T. C. N.--Born three weeks ‘fore Miss Susy, massa. F. M.--She'll fetch a right smart price at Mobile, now that New-Orleans-- T. C. N. (Aside while passing away)--Dey say de Yankees an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. Wish dey'd gib me a rifle ‘fore I dies. --Macmillan's Magazine. Carlyle and his nutshell. Carlyle pours the dregs of his once fertile brain In a nutshell, the great cause of Freedom to stain; But the gall he has used foils the foolish attack, And dyes himself darker than African-b
Thomas Carlyle (search for this): chapter 47
Servitude for life: an answer to Thomas Carlyle by J. M. Ludlow. Frederick Maximus--Harkee here, Dan, you black nigger rascal. You're no longer a slave, you're a servant hired for life. T. C. Nigger--By golly! Wife and chil'n servants for life too, massa? F. M.--Yes, all you niggers. But you must work all the same, y C. N. (Aside while passing away)--Dey say de Yankees an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. Wish dey'd gib me a rifle ‘fore I dies. --Macmillan's Magazine. Carlyle and his nutshell. Carlyle pours the dregs of his once fertile brain In a nutshell, the great cause of Freedom to stain; But the gall he has used foils the foolish an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. Wish dey'd gib me a rifle ‘fore I dies. --Macmillan's Magazine. Carlyle and his nutshell. Carlyle pours the dregs of his once fertile brain In a nutshell, the great cause of Freedom to stain; But the gall he has used foils the foolish attack, And dyes himself darker than African-bla
Overseer (search for this): chapter 47
lf the year, and fifteen the other half. Laws of South-Carolina. T. C. N.--Any priv'leges, massa? F. M.--Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sold down South when I please, and of being converted by any parson whom I choose to allow. T. C. N.--Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, mass? F. M.--Ha! ha! ha! Yes — till I or Mr. Overseer want them. But you have the privilege of taking another wife as often as I allow it, and of having as many children as it pays me to bring up. T. C. N.--Beg pardon, massa, but what for you call me servant hired for life? F. M.--What for, you rascal? Because a great man, after whom I named you, when he had written a d — d good book on the nigger question, says that is all the difference between you and those mean, white-livered Yankee working-men, who are hired by the month or the
Frederick Maximus (search for this): chapter 47
Servitude for life: an answer to Thomas Carlyle by J. M. Ludlow. Frederick Maximus--Harkee here, Dan, you black nigger rascal. You're no longer a slave, you're a servant hired for life. T. C. Nigger--By golly! Wife and chil'n servants for life too, massa? F. M.--Yes, all you niggers. But you must work all the same, you know. T. C. N.--Iss, massa. What wages you gib? F. M.--Wages, you rascal? Quart of corn a day, and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours of work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and fifteen the other half. Laws of South-Carolina. T. C. N.--Any priv'leges, massa? F. M.--Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sold down South when I please, and of being converted by any parson whom I choose to allow. T. C. N.--Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, mass? F. M.--Ha!
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