eat them like human beings--not
like brutes.'

'Ye'll show 'em off the best how ye kin; let ye alone fur thet; I know
yer hull parson tribe; thar haint nary a honest one among ye.'

Preston turned silently away, as if disdaining to waste words on such a
subject; and I said to the trader:

'Mr. Larkin, I've told you I've no time to lose. Name your price at
once, or I'll not buy the woman at all.'

'Well, jest as ye say, Mr. Kirke. But ye see she's a rare 'un; would
bring two thousand in Orleans, sure's a gun.'

'Pshaw! you know better than that; but, name your price.'

'What, fur the hull, or the 'ooman alone?'

'Either way; I've no particular use for the children, but I'll buy them
if cheap.'

'Oh! _do_ buy us,' cried the little girl, taking hold of my coat; 'do
buy us--please do, good massa.'

'Shet up, ye young whelp,' said the trader, raising his whip. The little
thing slunk back affrighted, and commenced sobbing, but said no more.

'Well, Mr. Kirke, the lot cost me sixteen fifty, hard rocks, and 'twas
dirt cheap, 'cause the 'ooman alone'll bring more'n thet. I couldn't hev
bought har fur thet, but har owner wus hard up. Ye see he's Gin'ral----,
down ter Newbern, one of yer rig'lar 'ristocrats, the raal ole-fashioned
sort--keeps a big plantation, house in town; fine wines; fine wimmin;
fast hosses; and goes it mighty strong. Well, he's allers a trifle
under--ev'ry year 'bout two thousand short; and ev'ry year I buy a
couple or so of nigs on him ter make it up. He's a pertickerler friend
o' mine, ye see; he thinks a heap o' me--he does. Well, when I gets
'long thar t'other day, he says ter me, says he: 'Lark,' (he allers
calls me Lark; thet's the name I goes by 'mong my intimate 'quaintance),
well, says he; 'Lark, thar's Phylly. I want ye ter take har. She's the
likeliest gal in the world--good old Virginny blood, father one of the
raal old stock. Ye knows she's right, good ev'ry way, prays like a camp
meetin', and virtuous ter kill; thar ain't none round har thet's up to
har at thet--tried ter cum round har myself, but couldn't git nigher'n a
rod--won't hev but one man, and'll stick ter him like death; jest the
gal fur one o' them New Orleans bloods as wants one thet'll be true ter
'em. Do ye take, Lark?' says he. 'Well, I do, says I, and I knows just
the feller fur har; one of yer raal high-flyers--rich's a Jew--twenty
thousand a year--lives like a prince--got one or two on 'em now; but he
says to me whe