d while I was on the
plantation, in which some of the slaves were not whipped; I do not
mean that they were _struck a few blows_ merely, but had a _set
flogging_. The same labor is commonly assigned to men and women,--such
as digging ditches in the rice marshes, clearing up land, chopping
cord-wood, threshing, &c. I have known the women go into the barn as
soon as they could see in the morning, and work as late as they could
see at night, threshing rice with the flail, (they now have a
threshing machine,) and when they could see to thresh no longer, they
had to gather up the rice, carry it up stairs, and deposit it in the
granary.

The allowance of clothing on this plantation to each slave, was given
out at Christmas for the year, and consisted of one pair of coarse
shoes, and enough coarse cloth to make a jacket and trowsers. If the
man has a wife she makes it up; if not, it is made up in the house.
The slaves on this plantation, being near Wilmington, procured
themselves extra clothing by working Sundays and moonlight nights,
cutting cordwood in the swamps, which they had to back about a quarter
of a mile to the ricer; they would then get a permit from their
master, and taking the wood in their canoes, carry it to Wilmington,
and sell it to the vessels, or dispose of it as they best could, and
with the money buy an old jacket of the sailors, some coarse cloth for
a shirt, &c. They sometimes gather the moss from the trees, which they
cleanse and take to market. The women receive their allowance of the
same kind of cloth which the men have. This they make into a frock; if
they have any under garments _they must procure them for themselves_.
When the slaves get a permit to leave the plantation, they sometimes
make all ring again by singing the following significant ditty, which
shows that after all there is a flow of spirits in the human breast
which for a while, at least, enables them to forget their
wretchedness.[1]

Hurra, for good ole Massa,
He giv me de pass to go to de city
Hurra, for good ole Missis,
She bile de pot, and giv me de licker.
Hurra, I'm goin to de city.

[Footnote 1: Slaves sometimes sing, and so do convicts in jails under
sentence, and both for the same reason. Their singing proves that they
_want_ to be happy not that they _are_ so. It is the _means_ that they
use to make themselves happy, not the evidence that they are so
already. Sometimes, doubtless, the