soning among themselves, as slaves often do, that it can not be
_stealing_, because "it belongs to massa, and so do _we_, and we only use
one part of his property to benefit another. Sure, 'tis all massa's."
And if they do not get detected in this removal of "massa's property" from
one location to another, they think no more of it.

Col. Alexander's slaves were hurrying on with their great preparations for
the dance and feast; and as the time drew near, the old and knowing ones
might be seen in groups, discussing the matter, with many a wink and nod;
but it was in the valleys and by-places where the younger portion were to
be found, rather secretly preparing food for the great time coming.
This consisted of hogs, sheep, calves; and as to master's _poultry_, that
suffered daily. Sometimes it was missed, but the disappearance was always
easily accounted for, by informing "massa" that a great number of hawks
had been around of late; and their preparation went on, night after night,
undetected. They who repaired to a swamp or other by-place to cook by
night, carefully destroyed everything likely to detect them, before they
returned to their cabins in the morning.

The night for the dance _came_ at last, and long before the time, the road
leading to Col. Alexander's plantation presented a gay spectacle. The
females were seen flocking to the place of resort, with heads adorned with
gaudy bandanna turbans and new calico dresses, of the gayest colors,
--their whole attire decked over with bits of gauze ribbon and other
fantastic finery. The shades of night soon closed over the plantation, and
then could be heard the rude music and loud laugh of the unpolished slave.
It was about ten o'clock when the _aristocratic slaves_ began to assemble,
dressed in the cast-off finery of their master and mistress, swelling out
and putting on airs in imitation of those they were forced to obey from
day to day.

When they were all assembled, the dance commenced; the old fiddler struck
up some favorite tune, and over the floor they went; the flying feet of
the dancers were heard, pat, pat, over the apartment till the clock
warned them it was twelve at midnight, or what some call "low twelve," to
distinguish it from twelve o'clock at noon; then the violin ceased its
discordant sounds, and the merry dancers paused to take breath.

Supper was then announced, and all began to prepare for the sumptuous
feast. It being the pride of slaves to imitate