emember, in later years, that he had ever seen a slave auction,
but he added:

"I am suspicious that it is because the thing was a commonplace
spectacle, and not an uncommon or impressive one. I do vividly remember
seeing a dozen black men and women chained together lying in a group on
the pavement, waiting shipment to a Southern slave-market. They had the
saddest faces I ever saw."

It is not surprising that a boy would gather a store of human knowledge
amid such happenings as these. They were wild, disturbing things. They
got into his dreams and made him fearful when he woke in the middle of
the night. He did not then regard them as an education. In some vague
way he set them down as warnings, or punishments, designed to give him
a taste for a better life. He felt that it was his own conscience that
made these things torture him. That was his mother's idea, and he had a
high respect for her moral opinions, also for her courage. Among other
things, he had seen her one day defy a vicious devil of a Corsican--a
common terror in the town-who was chasing his grown daughter with a
heavy rope in his hand, declaring he would wear it out on her. Cautious
citizens got out of her way, but Jane Clemens opened her door wide to
the refugee, and then, instead of rushing in and closing it, spread her
arms across it, barring the way. The man swore and threatened her with
the rope, but she did not flinch or show any sign of fear. She stood
there and shamed him and derided him and defied him until he gave up the
rope and slunk off, crestfallen and conquered. Any one who could do that
must have a perfect conscience, Sam thought. In the fearsome darkness
he would say his prayers, especially when a thunderstorm was coming, and
vow to begin a better life in the morning. He detested Sunday-school
as much as day-school, and once Orion, who was moral and religious,
had threatened to drag him there by the collar; but as the thunder got
louder Sam decided that he loved Sunday-school and would go the next
Sunday without being invited.

Fortunately there were pleasanter things than these. There were
picnics sometimes, and ferry-boat excursions. Once there was a great
Fourth-of-July celebration at which it was said a real Revolutionary
soldier was to be present. Some one had discovered him living alone
seven or eight miles in the country. But this feature proved a
disappointment; for when the day came and he was triumphantly brought in
he turned