ad, his very tail a
mortified stump, and the whole beast a picture of meek misery, fit to
touch a heart of stone. The jovial mule was a roly poly, happy-go-lucky
little piece of horse-flesh, taking everything easily, from cudgeling
to caressing; strolling along with a roguish twinkle of the eye, and,
if the thing were possible, would have had his hands in his pockets,
and whistled as he went. If there ever chanced to be an apple core, a
stray turnip, or wisp of hay, in the gutter, this Mark Tapley was sure
to find it, and none of his mates seemed to begrudge him his bite. I
suspected this fellow was the peacemaker, confidant and friend of all
the others, for he had a sort of
"Cheer-up,-old-boy,-I'll-pull-you-through" look, which was exceedingly
engaging.

Pigs also possessed attractions for me, never having had an opportunity
of observing their graces of mind and manner, till I came to
Washington, whose porcine citizens appeared to enjoy a larger liberty
than many of its human ones. Stout, sedate looking pigs, hurried by
each morning to their places of business, with a preoccupied air, and
sonorous greeting to their friends. Genteel pigs, with an extra curl to
their tails, promenaded in pairs, lunching here and there, like
gentlemen of leisure. Rowdy pigs pushed the passers by off the side
walk; tipsy pigs hiccoughed their version of "We wont go home till
morning," from the gutter; and delicate young pigs tripped daintily
through the mud, as if, like "Mrs. Peerybingle," they plumed themselves
upon their ankles, and kept themselves particularly neat in point of
stockings. Maternal pigs, with their interesting families, strolled by
in the sun; and often the pink, baby-like squealers lay down for a nap,
with a trust in Providence worthy of human imitation.

But more interesting than officers, ladies, mules, or pigs, were my
colored brothers and sisters, because so unlike the respectable members
of society I'd known in moral Boston.

Here was the genuine article--no, not the genuine article at all, we
must go to Africa for that--but the sort of creatures generations of
slavery have made them: obsequious, trickish, lazy and ignorant, yet
kind-hearted, merry-tempered, quick to feel and accept the least token
of the brotherly love which is slowly teaching the white hand to grasp
the black, in this great struggle for the liberty of both the races.

Having been warned not to be too rampant on the subject of slavery, as
sece