you, Lizzy? oh my! what’s up, what time is it, and so on.  Lizzy said master wanted me immediately; yes, Lizzy, said I, tell master I’m coming.  I bothered about the room long enough to give colour to the impression that I had just finished dressing myself; I then came and said, here I am, master, when he demanded of me, what were my horses doing in the meadow?  Here I put on an expression of such wonder and surprise—­looking first into the meadow and then at the stable door, and to master’s satisfaction, I seemed so completely confounded that my deception took upon him the desired effect.  Then I affected to roar right out, crying, now master, you saw my horses all clean last night before I went to bed, and now some of those negroes have turned them out so that I should have them to clean over again:  well, I declare! it’s too bad, and I roared and cried as I went towards the meadow to drive them up; but master believing what I said, called me back and told me to call Mr. Cobb, and when Mr. Cobb came master told him to blow the horn; when the horn was blown, the negroes were to be seen coming from all parts of the plantation, and forming around in front of the balcony.  Master then came out and said, now I saw this boy’s horses clean last night and in the stable, so now tell me which of you turned them out?  Of course they all denied it, then master ordered them all to go down into the meadow and drive up the horses and clean them, me excepted; so they went and drove them up and set to work and cleaned them.  On Monday morning we all turned out to work until breakfast, when the horn was blown, and we all repaired to the house.  Here master again demanded to know who turned the horses loose, and when they all denied it, he tied them all up and gave them each 39 lashes.  Not yet satisfied, but determined to have a confession, as was always his custom on such occasions, he came to me and asked me which one I had reason to suspect.  My poor guilty heart already bleeding for the suffering I had caused my fellow slaves, was now almost driven to confession.  What must I do, select another victim for further punishment, or confess the truth and bear the consequence?  My conscience now rebuked me, like an armed man; but I happened to be one of those boys who, among all even of my mother’s children loved myself best, and therefore had no disposition to satisfy my conscience at the expense of a very sore back, so I very soon thought of Dick, a negro who, like Ishmael, had his hand out against every man, and all our hands were out against him; this negro was a lickspittle or tell-tale, as little boys call them—­we could not steal a bit of tea or sugar, or any other kind of nourishment for our sick, or do anything else we did not want to be known, but if he got to know it he would run and tell master or mistress, or the overseer, so we all wanted him dead; and now I thought of him—­he was just the proper sacrifice for me to lay upon the altar of confession, so I told master I believed that it