and ac-TIVE people.  They must go to the lands of Labrador, or be located back of Canada; they can hold on there a few years, until the wave of civilization reaches them, and then they must move again, as the savages do.  It is decreed; I hear the bugle of destiny a soundin of their retreat, as plain as any thing.  Congress will give them a concession of land, if they petition, away to Alleghany backside territory, and grant them relief for a few years; for we are out of debt, and don’t know what to do with our surplus revenue.  The only way to shame them, that I know, would be to sarve them as Uncle Enoch sarved a neighbor of his in Varginey.

There was a lady that had a plantation near hand to hisn, and there was only a small river atwixt the two houses, So that folks could hear each other talk across it.  Well, she was a dreadful cross grained woman, a real catamount, as savage as a she bear that has cubs, an old farrow critter, as ugly as sin, and one that both hooked and kicked too—­a most particular onmarciful she devil, that’s a fact.  She used to have some of her niggers tied up every day, and flogged uncommon severe, and their screams and screeches were horrid—­no soul could stand it; nothin was heerd all day, but oh lord missus!  Oh lord missus!  Enoch was fairly sick of the sound, for he was a tender hearted man, and says he to her one day, ’Now do marm find out some other place to give your cattle the cowskin, for it worries me to hear em take on so dreadful bad—­I cant stand it, I vow; they are flesh and blood as well as we be, though the meat is a different color’ but It was no good—­she jist up and told him to mind his own business, and she guessed she’d mind hern.  He was determined to shame her out of it; so one mornin after breakfast he goes into the cane field, and says he to Lavender, one of the black overseers, ’Muster up the whole gang of slaves, every soul, and bring ’em down to the whippin post, the whole stock of them, bulls, cows and calves.  Well, away goes Lavender, and drives up all the niggers.  Now you catch it, says he, you lazy villains; I tole you so many a time—­I tole you Massa he lose all patience wid you, you good for nothin rascals.  I grad, upon my soul, I werry grad; you mind now what old Lavender say anoder time. (The black overseers are always the most cruel, said the Clockmaker; they have no sort of feeling for their own people.)

Well, when they were gathered there according to orders, they looked streaked enough you may depend, thinkin they were going to get it all round, and the wenches they fell to a cryin, wringin their hands, and boo-hooing like mad.  Lavender was there with his cowskin, grinnin like a chessy cat, and crackin it about, ready for business.  Pick me out, says Enoch, four that have the loudest voices; hard matter dat, says Lavender, hard matter dat, Massa, dey all talk loud, dey all lub talk more better nor work—­de idle villians;