d wears the button of his hat in
front;" another to have been a liar; another to have been "somewhat
impudent if crossed, and has a leering look under his eyes." Others were
"awkward in manners," "somewhat morose in countenance," "had long
finger-nails," "had one or two pimples on the face," "is too fond of
talking." It seems almost incredible that intelligent persons should
have given such childish and easily obliterated or varied particulars of
description.

Diverse names were applied to these runaways: "Sirrinam Indianman
Slave," "Mustee-fellow," "Molatto," "Moor," "Maddagerscar-boy,"
"Guinyman," "Congoman," "Coast-fellow," "Tawny," "Black-a-moor"--all
apparently conveying some distinction of description universally
comprehended at the time.

We have a few records of worthy black servants who remind us of the
faithful, loving house-servants of old Southern families. Such a one was
Judge Sewall's man, Boston--a freeman--to a master who deserved faithful
service, if ever master did. The entries in the Judge's diary, meagre as
they are, somehow show fully to us that faithful life of service. We see
Boston taking the Sewall children out sledding; we see him carrying one
of the little daughters out of town in his arms when the neighbors were
suddenly smitten with that colonial plague, the small-pox. We find him,
in later years, a tender nurse, sleeping by the fire in languishing
Hannah Sewall's sick-chamber; and, after her death, we hear him
protesting against the removal of her dead form from her chamber; and we
can see him weeping as he sat through the lonely nights with his dead
and dearly loved mistress, till she was hidden from his view. It is
pleasing to know that though he lived a servant, he was buried like a
gentleman; he received that token of final respect so highly prized in
Boston--a ceremonious funeral, with a good fire, and chairs set in rows,
and plenty of wine and cake, and a notice in the _News Letter_, and
doubtless gloves in decent numbers.

Other black men led noble lives in service, if we can trust the records
on their tombstones.

This elegant epitaph is upon a gravestone in Concord, Mass.:

"GOD WILLS US FREE; MAN WILLS US SLAVES
I WILL AS GOD WILLS, GODS WILL BE DONE.
HERE LIES THE BODY OF

JOHN JACK

A NATIVE OF AFRICA, WHO DIED
MARCH 1773 AGED ABOUT SIXTY YEARS.
THOUGH BORN IN A LAND OF SLAVERY
HE