when Georgiana and some of her Connecticut friends were there, the
overseer called all the slaves up to the "great house," and set some of
the young ones to dancing. After awhile whiskey was brought in and a
dram given to each slave, in return for which they were expected to
give a toast, or sing a short piece of his own composition; when it
came to Jack's turn he said,--

"The big bee flies high, the little bee makes the honey: the black
folks make the cotton, and the white folks gets the money."

Of course, the overseer was not at all elated with the sentiment
contained in Jack's toast. Mr. Wilson had lately purchased a young man
to assist about the house and to act as coachman. This slave, whose
name was Jerome, was of pure African origin, was perfectly black, very
fine-looking, tall, slim, and erect as any one could possibly be. His
features were not bad, lips thin, nose prominent, hands and feet small.
His brilliant black eyes lighted up his whole countenance. His hair
which was nearly straight, hung in curls upon his lofty brow. George
Combe or Fowler would have selected his head for a model. He was brave
and daring, strong in person, fiery in spirit, yet kind and true in his
affections, earnest in his doctrines. Clotelle had been at the parson's
but a few weeks when it was observed that a mutual feeling had grown up
between her and Jerome. As time rolled on, they became more and more
attached to each other. After satisfying herself that these two really
loved, Georgiana advised their marriage. But Jerome contemplated his
escape at some future day, and therefore feared that if married it
might militate against it. He hoped, also, to be able to get Clotelle
away too, and it was this hope that kept him from trying to escape by
himself. Dante did not more love his Beatrice, Swift his Stella, Waller
his Saccharissa, Goldsmith his Jessamy bride, or Bums his Mary, than
did Jerome his Clotelle. Unknown to her father, Miss Wilson could
permit these two slaves to enjoy more privileges than any of the other
servants. The young mistress taught Clotelle, and the latter imparted
her instructions to her lover, until both could read so as to be well
understood. Jerome felt his superiority, and always declared that no
master should ever flog him. Aware of his high spirit and
determination, Clotelle was in constant fear lest some difficulty might
arise between her lover and his master.

One day Mr. Wilson, being somewhat out of