l obey me."

No wonder the slaves sing,--

Ole Satan's church is here below;
Up to God's free church I hope to go.

XIV. Another Link To Life.

I had not returned to my master's house since the birth of my child. The
old man raved to have me thus removed from his immediate power; but his
wife vowed, by all that was good and great, she would kill me if I came
back; and he did not doubt her word. Sometimes he would stay away for a
season. Then he would come and renew the old threadbare discourse about his
forbearance and my ingratitude. He labored, most unnecessarily, to convince
me that I had lowered myself. The venomous old reprobate had no need of
descanting on that theme. I felt humiliated enough. My unconscious babe was
the ever-present witness of my shame. I listened with silent contempt when
he talked about my having forfeited _his_ good opinion; but I shed bitter
tears that I was no longer worthy of being respected by the good and pure.
Alas! slavery still held me in its poisonous grasp. There was no chance for
me to be respectable. There was no prospect of being able to lead a better
life.

Sometimes, when my master found that I still refused to accept what he
called his kind offers, he would threaten to sell my child. "Perhaps that
will humble you," said he.

Humble _me_! Was I not already in the dust? But his threat lacerated my
heart. I knew the law gave him power to fulfil it; for slaveholders have
been cunning enough to enact that "the child shall follow the condition of
the _mother_," not of the _father_, thus taking care that licentiousness
shall not interfere with avarice. This reflection made me clasp my innocent
babe all the more firmly to my heart. Horrid visions passed through my mind
when I thought of his liability to fall into the slave trader's hands. I
wept over him, and said, "O my child! perhaps they will leave you in some
cold cabin to die, and then throw you into a hole, as if you were a dog."

When Dr. Flint learned that I was again to be a mother, he was exasperated
beyond measure. He rushed from the house, and returned with a pair of
shears. I had a fine head of hair; and he often railed about my pride of
arranging it nicely. He cut every hair close to my head, storming and
swearing all the time. I replied to some of his abuse, and he struck me.
Some months before, he had pitched me down stairs in a fit of passion; and
the injury I received was so serious that I was unabl