“Reckon how ye wouldn’t, ah!” Dandy’s face fills with indignation.  “Buckra what sting ye back wid de lash ‘ll buy ye old bag a’ bones fo’h down south; and when ‘e get ye down da’ he make ye fo’h a corn grinder.”  Dandy is somewhat inflated with his rank among the domestics; he is none of yer common niggers, has never associated with black, field niggers, which he views as quite too common for his aristocratic notions, has on his very best looks, his hair combed with extraordinary care, his shirt collar dangerously standing above his ears.  He feels something better than nigger blood in his composition, knows the ins and outs of nigger philosophy; he knows it to be the very best kind of philosophy for a “nigger” to put on a good appearance at the shambles.  A dandy nigger is not plantation stock,—­hence he has “trimmed up,” and hopes to find a purchaser in want of his specific kind of property; it will save him from that field-life so much dreaded.

The property, in all its varied shades, comes rolling out from all manner of places in and about the gaol, filling the yard.  It is a momentous occasion, the most momentous of their life-time.  And yet many seem indifferent about its consequences.  They speak of the old plantation, jeer each other about the value of themselves, offer bets on the price they will bring, assert a superiority over each other, and boast of belonging to some particular grade of the property.  Harry—­we mean Harry the preacher—­is busy getting his wife and children ready for market.  He evinces great affection for his little ones, has helped his wife to arrange their apparel with so much care.  The uninitiated might imagine them going to church instead of the man shambles.  Indeed, so earnest are many good divines in the promotion of slavery, that it would not be unbecoming to form a connection between the southern church and the southern man shambles.  The material aid they now give each other for the purpose of keeping up the man trade would be much facilitated.

However, there is a chance of Harry being sold to a brother divine, who by way of serving his good Lord and righteous master, may let him out to preach, after the old way.  Harry will then be serving his brother in brotherly faith; that is, he will be his brother’s property, very profitable, strong in the faith with his dear divine brother, to whom he will pay large tribute for the right to serve the same God.

Harry’s emotions-he has been struggling to suppress them-have got beyond his control; tears will now and then show themselves and course down his cheeks.  “Never mind, my good folks! it is something to know that Jesus still guards us; still watches over us.”  He speaks encouragingly to them.  “The scourge of earth is man’s wrongs, the deathspring of injustice.  We are made bearers of the burden; but that very burden will be our passport into a brighter, a juster world.  Let us meekly bear it.  Cheer up! arm yourselves with the spirit