duct, when solicited to do small jobs--such as carrying baggage,
loading of unloading a vessel, or the like. If offered a very small
compensation, as was generally the case at first, they would stretch
themselves on the ground, and with a sleepy look, and lazy tone, would
say, "O, I can't do it, sir." Sometimes the applicants would turn away
at once, thinking that they were unwilling to work, and cursing "the
lazy devils;" but occasionally they would try the efficacy of offering a
larger compensation, when instantly the negroes would spring to their
feet, and the lounging inert mass would appear all activity.

We are very willing to hold up Mr. P as a specimen of what colored
people generally may become with proper cultivation, or to use the
language of one of their own number,[A] "with free minds and space
to rise."

[Footnote A: Thomas C. Brown, who renounced colonization, returned from
a disastrous and almost fatal expedition to Liberia, and afterwards went
to the West Indies, in quest of a free country.]

We have purposely refrained from speaking of Mrs. P., lest any thing we
should be willing to say respecting her, might seem to be adulation.
However, having alluded to her, we will say that it has seldom fallen to
our lot to meet with her superior.

BREAKFAST AT MR. LONDON BOURNE'S.

After what has been said in this chapter to try the patience and
irritate the nerves of the prejudiced, if there should be such among our
readers, they will doubtless deem it quite intolerable to be introduced,
not as hitherto to a family in whose faces the lineaments and the
complexion of the white man are discernible, relieving the ebon hue, but
to a household of genuine unadulterated negroes. We cordially accepted
an invitation to breakfast with Mr. London Bourne. If the reader's
horror of amalgamation does not allow him to join us at the table,
perhaps he will consent to retire to the parlor, whence, without fear of
contamination, he may safely view us through the folding doors, and note
down our several positions around the board. At the head of the table
presides, with much dignity, Mrs. Bourne; at the end opposite, sits Mr.
Bourne--both of the glossiest jet; the thick matted hair of Mr. B.
slightly frosted with age. He has an affable, open countenance, in which
the radiance of an amiable spirit, and the lustre of a sprightly
intellect, happily commingle, and illuminate the sable covering. On
either hand of Mr. B. _we_ sit,