ear it."

"Thank you, sir," said the lady.

The mother, as soon as she saw that her child was to be left, ran up to
Mr. Walker, and falling upon her knees begged him to let her have her
child; she clung around his legs, and cried, "Oh, my child! my child!
master, do let me have my child! oh, do, do, do. I will stop its crying,
if you will only let me have it again." When I saw this woman crying for
her child so piteously, a shudder,--a feeling akin to horror, shot
through my frame. I have often since in imagination heard her crying for
her child:--

"O, master, let me stay to catch
My baby's sobbing breath,
His little glassy eye to watch,
And smooth his limbs in death,

And cover him with grass and leaf,
Beneath the large oak tree:
It is not sullenness, but grief,--
O, master, pity me!

The morn was chill--I spoke no word,
But feared my babe might die,
And heard all day, or thought I heard,
My little baby cry.

At noon, oh, how I ran and took
My baby to my breast!
I lingered--and the long lash broke
My sleeping infant's rest.

I worked till night--till darkest night,
In torture and disgrace;
Went home and watched till morning light,
To see my baby's face.

Then give me but one little hour--
O! do not lash me so!
One little hour--one little hour--
And gratefully I'll go."

Mr. Walker commanded her to return into the ranks with the other slaves.
Women who had children were not chained, but those that had none were.
As soon as her child was disposed of, she was chained in the gang.

The following song I have often heard the slaves sing, when about to be
carried to the far south. It is said to have been composed by a slave.

"See these poor souls from Africa
Transported to America;
We are stolen, and sold to Georgia,
Will you go along with me?
We are stolen, and sold to Georgia,
Come sound the jubilee!

See wives and husbands sold apart,
Their children's screams will break my heart;--
There's a better day a coming,
Will you go along with me?
There's a better day a coming,
Go sound the jubilee!

O, gracious Lord! when shall it be,
That we poor souls shall all be free;
Lord, break them slavery powers--
Will you go along with me?
Lord break them slavery powers,
Go sound the jubilee!

Dear Lord, dear L