No.  XXVII

The White Nigger.

One of the most amiable, and at the same time most amusing traits, in the Clockmaker’s character, was the attachment and kindness with which he regarded his horse.  He considered “Old Clay” as far above a Provincial Horse, as he did one of his “free and enlightened citizens” superior to a Blue Nose.  He treated him as a travelling companion, and when conversation flagged between us, would often soliloquize to him, a habit contracted from pursuing his journeys alone.  Well now, he would say, “Old Clay,” I guess you took your time a goin up that are hill, ’spose we progress now.  Go along you old sculpin, and turn out your toes.  I reckon you are as deff as a shad, do you hear there, “go ahead Old Clay.”  There now, he’d say, Squire aint that dreadful pretty?  There’s action.  That looks about right—­legs all under him—­gathers all up snug—­no bobbin of his head—­no rollin of his shoulders —­no wabblin of his hind parts, but steady as a pump bolt, and the motion all underneath.  When he fairly lays himself to it, he trots like all vengeance.  Then look at his ears, jist like rabbits, none o’ your flop ears like them Amherst beasts, half horses, half pigs, but strait up and pineted, and not too near at the tips; for that are, I concait, always shews a horse aint true to draw.  There are only two things, Squire, worth lookin at in a horse, action and soundness, for I never saw a critter that had good action that was a bad beast.  Old Clay puts me in mind of one of our free and enlightened —–.  Excuse me, said I, Mr. Slick, but really you appropriate that word “free” to your countrymen, as if you thought no other people in the world were entitled to it but yourselves.  Neither be they, said he.  We first sot the example.  Look at our declaration of independence.  It was writ by Jefferson, and he was the first man of the age, perhaps the world never seed his ditto.  It’s a beautiful piece of penmanship that, he gave the British the butt eend of his mind there.  I calculate you couldn’t falt it in no particular, it’s generally allowed to be his cap shief.  In the first page of it, second section, and first varse, are these words, “We hold this truth to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”  I guess King George turned his quid when he read that.  It was somethin to chaw on, he hadn’t been used to the flavor of, I reckon.  Jefferson forgot to insert—­one little word, said I, he should have said, “all white men;” for, as it now stands, it is a practical untruth, in a country which tolerates domestic slavery in its worst and most forbidding form.  It is a declaration of shame, and not of independence.  It is as perfect a misnomer as ever I knew.  Well, said he, I must admit there is a screw loose somewhere thereabouts, and I wish it would convene to Congress, to do somethin or another about our niggers, but I am not quite certified how that is to be sot to rights—­I