d he wished
to sell me again, but no one would buy a fetish-man, so he made friends
with me; for I told him, if I was beat he should die, and he believed
me. He took me into his house, and I was his chief man, and I would not
let the other slaves steal, and he was content. He took me with him to
New York, and there after two years, when I had learned English, I ran
away, and got on board of an English ship--and they told me to cook. I
left the ship as soon as I came to England, and offered myself to
another, and they said they did not want a cook; and I went to another,
and they asked me if I was a good cook: everybody seemed to think that a
black man must be a cook, and nothing else. At last I starve, and I go
on board man-of-war, and here I am, after having been a warrior and a
prince, cook, steward and everyting else, boiling kettle for de young
gentlemen."

"Well," replied Jack, "at all events that is better than being a slave."

Mesty made no reply: any one who knows the life of a midshipman's
servant will not be surprised at his silence.

"Now, tell me, do you think you were right in being so revengeful, when
you were in your own country?" inquired Jack.

"I tink so den, Massa Easy, sometimes when my blood boil, I tink so
now--oder time, I no know what to tink--but when a man love very much,
he hate very much."

"But you are now a Christian, Mesty."

"I hear all that your people say," replied the negro, "and it make me
tink--I no longer believe in fetish, anyhow."

"Our religion tells us to love our enemies."

"Yes, I heard parson say dat--but den what we do with our friends, Massy
Easy?"

"Love them too."

"I no understand dat, Massa Easy--I love you, because you good, and
treat me well--Mr Vigors, he bully, and treat me ill--how possible to
love him? By de power, I hate him, and wish I had him _skull_. You
tink little Massa Gossett love him?"

"No," replied Jack, laughing, "I'm afraid that he would like to have his
skull as well as you, Mesty--but at all events we must try and forgive
those who injure us."

"Then, Massa Easy, I tink so too--too much revenge very bad--it very
easy to hate, but not very easy to forgive--so I tink that if a man
forgive he hab _more soul_ in him, he more of a _man_."

"After all," thought Jack, "Mesty is about as good a Christian as most
people."

"What that?" cried Mesty, looking out of the cabin window--"Ah! damn
drunken dogs--they set fire to tent."

Ja