ked out, ready to be
sold for ten years younger than he was. Toby was also there, with his
face shaven and greased, ready for inspection.

The examination commenced, and was carried on in such a manner as to
shock the feelings of any one not entirely devoid of the milk of human
kindness.

"What are you wiping your eyes for?" inquired a far, red-faced man, with
a white hat set on one side of his head and a cigar in his mouth, of a
woman who sat on one of the benches.

"Because I left my man behind."

"Oh, if I buy you, I will furnish you with a better man than you left.
I've got lots of young bucks on my farm."

"I don't want and never will have another man," replied the woman.

"What's you name?" asked a man in a straw hat of a tall negro who stood
with his arms folded across his breast, leaning against the wall.

"My name is Aaron, sar."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

"Where were you raised?"

"In old Virginny, sar."

"How many men have owned you?"

"Four."

"Do you enjoy good health?"

"Yes, sar."

"How long did you live with your first owner?"

"Twenty years."

"Did you ever run away?"

"No, sar."

"Did you ever strike your master?"

"No, sar."

"Were you ever whipped much?"

"No, sar; I s'pose I didn't desarve it, sar."

"How long did you live with your second master?"

"Ten years, sar."

"Have you a good appetite?"

"Yes, sar."

"Can you eat your allowance?"

"Yes, sar,--when I can get it."

"Where were you employed in Virginia?"

"I worked de tobacker fiel'."

"In the tobacco field, eh?"

"Yes, sar."

"How old did you say you was?"

"Twenty-five, sar, nex' sweet-'tater-diggin' time."

"I am a cotton-planter, and if I buy you, you will have to work in the
cotton-field. My men pick one hundred and fifty pounds a day, and the
women one hundred and forty pounds; and those who fail to perform their
task receive five stripes for each pound that is wanting. Now, do you
think you could keep up with the rest of the hands?"

"I don't know, sar, but I 'specs I'd have to."

"How long did you live with your third master?"

"Three years, sar."

"Why, that makes you thirty-three. I thought you told me you were only
twenty-five?"

Aaron now looked first at the planter, then at the trader, and seemed
perfectly bewildered. He had forgotten the lesson given him by Pompey
relative to his age; and the planter's circuitous questions--doubtless
to find out the slave's re