Neb, from all which I conclude you expect to
return to town with me, in the Wallingford, this evening, and to go
out in the Dawn?"
"Sartain, Masser Mile! How you t'ink of goin' to sea and leave nigger
at home?"
Here Neb raised such a laugh that he might have been heard a hundred
rods, seeming to fancy the idea he had suggested was so preposterous
as to merit nothing but ridicule.
"Well, Neb, I consent to your wishes; but this will be the last voyage
in which you will have to consult me on the subject, as I shall make
out your freedom papers, the moment I am of age."
"What dem?" demanded the black, quick as lightning.
"Why, papers to make you your own master--a free man--you surely know
what that means. Did you never hear of free niggers?"
"Sartin--awful poor debble, dey be, too. You catch Neb, one day, at
being a free nigger, gib you leave to tell him of it, Masser Mile!"
Here was another burst of laughter, that sounded like a chorus in
merriment.
"This is a little extraordinary, Neb! I thought, boy, all slaves pined
for freedom?"
"P'rhaps so; p'rhaps not. What good he do, Masser Mile, when heart and
body well satisfy as it is. Now, how long a Wallingford family lib,
here, in dis berry spot?"--Neb always talked more like a "nigger,"
when within hearing of the household gods, than he did at sea.
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