I could not help recalling and analyzing his scalding words of contempt.  I took a certain pleasure in doing so, because, as I saw and felt the power of each in succession, I remembered what awful abuses flow from the tongues of Southern masters and mistresses continually, as they goad on their slaves to their work, or reproach them for not bringing in the brick for which they had given them no straw.  So it was comparatively a light affliction for me to remember that I had been called by such hard names.  “Putty-headed!” said he.  I infer, dear Aunty, that he must have worked in the painter’s department, and had been familiar with putty; hence he drew the epithet, into whose signification I did not care to inquire.  “White-birch-looking!” I suppose he referred to the impression of imbecility which we have in seeing a perfectly white tree in the woods among the deep green of the sturdier trees.  He may have referred to the effect of sedentary habits on my complexion.  However, I soon forgot the particulars of his insulting address, retaining only the impression that I had suffered, and that willingly, in the bleeding cause of freedom.

It was a great relief to me that, just at that moment, a very fine dog approached me and fawned upon me, then ran ahead, and seemed afraid that I should send him back.  After a while I tried to drive him away, but he insisted on following me, and I have no doubt that I might have secured him, had I wished to do so.  I was not a little inclined, at one time, to take him home with me, and to keep him as a companion in my walks.  But he had a collar with his own name, Bruno, upon it, and the name of his owner.  The question of right occurred to me.  I debated it.  Applying some of the self-evident truths established by our own Independence, I almost persuaded myself that I might rightfully take the dog.  I reasoned thus:  1.  All dogs are born free and equal. 2.  They have an inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. 3.  All governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed.  These principles, breathed in, from childhood, with the atmosphere of our glorious “Fourth,” I did not hesitate to apply in the case of the dog.  I do not know what practical conclusion I might have arrived at, but suddenly I lost sight of Bruno in consequence of a new adventure, in the process of which he disappeared.

A matronly looking lady came suddenly out of a gate, with a cup in one hand containing a teaspoon, and a brown earthen mug in the other hand.  She pushed the gate open before her, easily; but I saw that she was embarrassed about shutting it.  I stepped forward and assisted her.

“Some kind office for the sick, I dare say,” said I.

“A woman in that plastered house is very sick,” said she; “I have just fixed some marsh-mallow for her, to see if it will ease her cough.  Sorry to trouble you, sir, but my cup was so full that I could not use my hands.”