If my son and myself had
the money for those valuable niggers, just see what a
great deal of good we could do for the poor, and in
sending missionaries abroad to the poor heathen,
who have never heard the name of our blessed Re-
deemer. My dear son who is a good Christian minis-
ter has advised me not to worry and send my soul
to hell for the sake of niggers; but to sell every
blessed one of them for what they will fetch, and go
and live in peace with him in New York. This I
have concluded to do. I have just been to Rich-
mond and made arrangements with my agent to
make clean work of the forty that are left."
"Your son being a good Christian minister,"
said the gentleman, "It's strange he did not advise
you to let the poor negroes have their liberty and
go North."
"It's not at all strange, sir; it's not at all
strange. My son knows what's best for the nig-
gers; he has always told me that they were much
better off than the free niggers in the North. In
fact, I don't believe there are any white labouring
people in the world who are as well off as the
slaves."
"You are quite mistaken, madam," said the
young man. "For instance, my own widowed
mother, before she died, emancipated all her slaves,
and sent them to Ohio, where they are getting
along well. I saw several of them last summer
myself."
"Well," replied the lady, "freedom may do for
your ma's niggers, but it will never do for mine;
and, plague them, they shall never have it; that is
the word, with the bark on it.
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