and owned slaves, though a part were unmixed black in colour. They kept pretty much by themselves, not attempting to enter white society.
As we went to look at our horses, two negroes followed us to the stable.
"Dat horse a Tennessee horse, mass'r," said one.
"Yes, he was born in Tennessee."
"Born in Tennessee and raised by a Dutchman," said the other, sotto voce, I suppose, quoting a song.
"Why, were you born in Tennessee?" I asked.
"No, sar, I was born in dis State."
"How comes it you speak English so much better than your master?"
"Ho, ho, my old mass'r, he don' speak it at all; my missus she speak it better'n my mass'r do, but you see I war raised on de parara, to der eastward, whar thar's heaps of 'Mericans; so I larned it good."
He spoke it, with a slight accent, while the other, whom he called Uncle Tom, I observed did not. I asked Uncle Tom if he was born in the State.
"No, sar! I was born in Varginny! in ole Varginny, mass'r. I was raised in county [in the West]. I was twenty-two year ole when I came away from thar, and I've been in this country, forty year come next Christmas."
"Then you are sixty years old."
"Yes, sar, amos' sixty. But I'd like to go back to Varginny. Ho, ho! I 'ould like to go back and live in ole Varginny, again."
"Why so? I thought niggers generally liked this country best—I've been told so—because it is so warm here."
"Ho, ho! it's mos' too warm here, sometime, and I can't work at my trade here. Sometimes for three months I don' go in my shop, on'y Sundays to work for mysef."
