me sucking away at the spout of a tea-pot, or, scratching his naked
arm-pits with a table-knife, or, perhaps, polishing the plates for
dinner with his dirty loin-cloth. If sent to market to purchase a
fowl, he comes back with a cock tied by the legs to the end of a stick,
swinging and squalling in the most piteous manner. Then, arrived at the
cook-shop, he throws the bird down on the ground, holds its head between
his toes, plucks the feathers to bare its throat, and then, raising a
prayer, cuts its head off.

But enough of the freed man in camp; on the march he is no better.
If you give him a gun and some ammunition to protect him in case of
emergencies, he will promise to save it, but forthwith expends it by
firing it off in the air, and demands more, else he will fear to venture
amongst the "savages." Suppose you give him a box of bottles to carry,
or a desk, or anything else that requires great care, and you caution
him of its contents, the first thing he does is to commence swinging it
round and round, or putting it topsy-turvy on the top of his head,
when he will run off at a jog-trot, singing and laughing in the most
provoking manner, and thinking no more about it than if it were an old
stone; even if rain were falling, he would put it in the best place to
get wet through. Economy, care, or forethought never enters his head;
the first thing to hand is the right thing for him; and rather then take
the trouble even to look for his own rope to tie up his bundle, he would
cut off his master's tent-ropes or steal his comrade's. His greatest
delight is in the fair sex, and when he can't get them, next comes beer,
song, and a dance.

Now, this is a mild specimen of the "rowdy" negro, who has contributed
more to open Africa to enterprise and civilisation than any one else.
Possessed of a wonderful amount of loquacity, great risibility, but
no stability--a creature of impulse--a grown child, in short--at first
sight it seems wonderful how he can be trained to work; for there is now
law, no home to bind him--he could run away at any moment; and
presuming on this, he sins, expecting to be forgiven. Great forbearance,
occasionally tinctured with a little fatherly severity, is I believe,
the best dose for him; for he says to his master, in the most childish
manner, after sinning, "You ought to forgive and to forget; for are you
not a big man who should be above harbouring spite, though for a moment
you may be angry? Flog me