d every little while to keep him in his place, and
that is just the reason why I took the overseership on this plantation."

The Hunter. "Well, what caused your boy to run away, Mr. Clarkson?"

Mr. Clarkson. "Well he ran away because I gave him an overhauling, to
keep him in the place of a negro."

Mr. Clarkson's wife. "Well, Thomas, I told you the other day, before you
did it, that I didn't see any need of your whipping Isom, because I
thought he was a good boy."

Mr. Clarkson. "Yes, my dear, if South Carolina had many more such
Presbyterians as you and Father Boston (he meant old Mr. Clarkson), in a
short time there would be no slaves in the state; then who would you
have to work for you?"

I wish to state a fact to my readers. While there were exceptions, as a
general thing the Presbyterians made better masters than did any other
denomination among the slave holders in the South.

Mrs. Clarkson. "Yes, Thomas, if you were such a Presbyterian as you
charged Father Boston and me with being, you could have saved yourself
the trouble and money which it will cost to hunt him."

Mr. Clarkson. "Well, we will not discuss the matter of religion any
further." (To the hunter.) "That boy has been away now for several days
since I whipped him. I thought that he would have returned home long
before this time, as this is the first time he has ever run away; but I
rather conclude that he got with some experienced runaways. Now do you
think that you can capture him without his being hurt, or torn by your
dogs?"

Mrs. Clarkson. "That is just what I am afraid will be done to that boy."

The Hunter. "O, no fear of that, madam, I shall use care in hunting him.
I have but one dog which is dangerous for tearing runaway negroes; I
will chain him here until I capture your boy."

The hunter blew his horn which gathered his dogs, chained the one he
spoke of, then he and Mr. Clarkson started on a chase for the runaway
slave, who, secreted in the house, had heard every word they had said
about him.

After the hunter and Mr. Clarkson had gone, Mrs. Clarkson went to her
room (as a general thing the southern mistresses hardly ever knew what
went on in their dining rooms and kitchens after meal hours), and Isom,
the runaway slave, sat at the same table and ate his breakfast.

After two or three days of vain search in the woods for the runaway
slave, Mr. Clarkson asked some of the other negroes on the plantation,
if they saw him, to tell