this presumption, is generally treated as impudence,
worthy of punishment. "Do you contradict me, you rascal?" is a final
silencer of counter statements from the lips of a slave.

Calming down a little in view of my silence and hesitation, and,
perhaps, from a rapid glance at the picture of misery I presented, he
inquired again, "what I would have him do?" Thus invited a second time,
I told Master Thomas I wished him to allow me to get a new home and to
find a new master; that, as sure as I went back to live with Mr. Covey
again, I should be killed by him; that he would never forgive my coming
to him (Capt. Auld) with a complaint against him (Covey); that, since I
had lived with him, he almost crushed my spirit, and I believed that
he would ruin me for future service; that my life was not safe in his
hands. This, Master Thomas _(my brother in the church)_ regarded as
"nonsence(sic)." "There was no danger of Mr. Covey's killing me; he was
a good man, industrious and religious, and he would not think of{179}
removing me from that home; besides," said he and this I found was the
most distressing thought of all to him--"if you should leave Covey now,
that your year has but half expired, I should lose your wages for the
entire year. You belong to Mr. Covey for one year, and you _must go
back_ to him, come what will. You must not trouble me with any more
stories about Mr. Covey; and if you do not go immediately home, I will
get hold of you myself." This was just what I expected, when I found he
had _prejudged_ the case against me. "But, Sir," I said, "I am sick and
tired, and I cannot get home to-night." At this, he again relented, and
finally he allowed me to remain all night at St. Michael's; but said I
must be off early in the morning, and concluded his directions by making
me swallow a huge dose of _epsom salts_--about the only medicine ever
administered to slaves.

It was quite natural for Master Thomas to presume I was feigning
sickness to escape work, for he probably thought that were _he_ in the
place of a slave with no wages for his work, no praise for well doing,
no motive for toil but the lash--he would try every possible scheme by
which to escape labor. I say I have no doubt of this; the reason is,
that there are not, under the whole heavens, a set of men who cultivate
such an intense dread of labor as do the slaveholders. The charge of
laziness against the slave is ever on their lips, and is the standing
apolog