r hoes; and crowded round the old
woman, asking questions. "Is he dead?"--"Will he die?" "Did you feel of
him--was he cold?"

Aunt Polly explained as well as she could, that Huckstep, in a state of
partial intoxication, had attempted to leap his horse over a fence, had
fallen and cut a deep gash in his head, and that he was now lying
insensible.

It is impossible to describe the effect produced by this news among the
hands. Men, women and children shouted, clapped their hands, and laughed
aloud. Some cursed the overseer, and others thanked the Lord for taking
him away. Little Simon got down on his knees, and called loudly upon God
to finish his work, and never let the overseer again enter a cotton
field. "Let him die, Lord," said he, "let him. He's killed enough of us:
Oh, good Lord, let him die and not live."

"Peace, peace! it is a bad spirit," said Uncle Solomon, "God himself
willeth not the death of a sinner."

I followed the old woman to the house; and found Huckstep at the foot of
one of those trees, so common at the South, called the Pride of China.
His face was black, and there was a frightful contusion on the side of
his head. He was carried into the house, where, on my bleeding him, he
revived. He lay in great pain for several days, and it was nearly three
weeks before he was able to come out to the cotton fields.

On returning to the field after Huckstep had revived, I found the hands
sadly disappointed to hear that he was still living. Some of them fell
to cursing and swearing, and were enraged with me for trying to save his
life. Little Simon said I was a fool; if he had bled him he would have
done it to some purpose. He would at least, have so disable his arm that
he would never again try to swing a whip. Uncle Solomon remonstrated
with Simon, and told that I had done right.

The neighbouring overseers used frequently to visit Huckstep, and he, in
turn, visited them. I was sometimes present during their interviews, and
heard them tell each other stories of horse-racing, negro-huntings, &c.
Some time during this season, Ludlow, who was overseer of a plantation
about eight miles from ours, told of a slave of his named Thornton, who
had twice attempted to escape with his wife and one child. The first
time he was caught without much difficulty, chained to the overseer's
horse, and in that way brought back. The poor man, to save his wife from
a beating, laid all the blame upon himself; and said that his w