he keepers of which pay them large sums to save
themselves the heavy license fine and the information docket. When they
are no longer able to pay over hush-money, they find themselves walked
up to the captain's office, to be dealt with according to the severe
penalty made and provided for violating the law which prohibits the sale
of liquor to negroes without an order. The failure to observe this law
is visited with fine and imprisonment,--both beyond their proportionate
deserts, when the law which governs the sale of liquor to white men is
considered. Things are very strictly regulated by complexions in South
Carolina. The master sets the most dissipated and immoral examples
in his own person, and allows his children not only to exercise their
youthful caprices, but to gratify such feelings as are pernicious to
their moral welfare, upon his slaves. Now, the question is, that knowing
the negro's power of imitation, ought not some allowance to be made
for copying the errors of his master? Yet such is not the case; for the
slightest deviation from the strictest rule of discipline brings condign
punishment upon the head of the offender.

CHAPTER V. MR. GRIMSHAW, THE MAN OF THE COUNTY.

ON the 22d of March last, about ten o'clock in the morning, a thin,
spare-looking man, dressed in a black cashmeret suit, swallow-tail
coat, loose-cut pants, a straight-breasted vest, with a very extravagant
shirt-collar rolling over upon his coat, with a black ribbon tied at the
throat, stood at the east corner of Broad and Meeting street, holding a
very excited conversation with officers Dusenberry and Dunn. His
visage was long, very dark--much more so than many of the colored
population--with pointed nose and chin, standing in grim advance to
each other; his face narrow, with high cheek-bones, small, peering eyes,
contracted forehead, reclining with a sunken arch between the perceptive
and intellectual organs--or, perhaps, we might have said, where
those organs should have been. His countenance was full of vacant
restlessness; and as he stared at you through his glasses, with his
silvery gray hair hanging about his ears and neck in shaggy points,
rolling a large quid of tobacco in his mouth, and dangling a little whip
in his right hand, you saw the index to his office. As he raised his
voice--which he did by twisting his mouth on one side, and working his
chin to adjust his enormous quid--the drawling tone in which he spoke
gav