Twelve Years a Slave

walked up to them, as if he had never thought before to take any special notice of me.
    “Yes,” replied Epps, taking hold of my arm and feeling it, “there isn’t a bad joint in him. There ain’t a boy on the bayou worth more than he is — perfectly sound, and no bad tricks. D—n him, he isn’t like other niggers; doesn’t look like ‘em — don’t act like ‘em. I was offered seventeen hundred dollars for him last week.”
    “And didn’t take it?” Bass inquired, with an air of surprise.
    “Take it — no; devilish clear of it. Why, he’s a reg’lar genius; can make a plough beam, wagon tongue — anything, as well as you can. Marshall wanted to put up one of his niggers agin him and raffle for them, but I told him I would see the devil have him first.”
    “I don’t see anything remarkable about him,” Bass observed.
    “Why, just feel of him, no,” Epps rejoined. “You don’t see a boy very often put together any closer than he is. He’s a thin-skin’d cuss, and won’t bear as much whipping as some; but he’s got the muscle in him, and no mistake.
    Bass felt of me, turned me round, and made a thorough examination, Epps all the while dwelling on my good points. But his visitor seemed to take but little interest finally in the subject, and consequently it was dropped. Bass soon departed, giving me another sly look of recognition and significance, as he trotted out of the yard.
    When he was gone I obtained a pass, and started for Tanner’s — not Peter Tanner’s, of whom mention has previously been made, but a relative of his. I played during the day and most of the night, spending the next day, Sunday, in my cabin. Monday I crossed the bayou to Douglas Marshall’s, all Epps’ slaves accompanying me, and on Tuesday went to the old Norwood place, which is the third plantation above Marshall’s, on the same side of the water.
    This estate is now owned by Miss Mary McCoy, a lovely girl, some twenty years of age. She is the beauty and the glory of Bayou Bouef. She owns about a hundred working hands, besides a great many house servants, yard boys, and young children. Her brother-in-law, who resides on the adjoining estate, is her general agent. She is beloved by all her slaves, and good reason indeed have they to be thankful that they have fallen into such gentle hands. Nowhere on the bayou are there such feasts, such merrymaking, as at young Madam McCoy’s. Thither, more than to any other place, do the old and the young for miles around love to repair in the time of the Christmas holiday; for nowhere else can they find such delicious repasts; nowhere else can they hear a voice speaking to them so pleasantly. No one is so well beloved — no one fills so large a space in the hearts of a thousand slaves, as young Madam McCoy, the orphan mistress of the old Norwood estate.
    On my arrival at her place, I found two or three hundred had assembled. The table was prepared in a long building, which she had erected expressly for her slaves to dance in. It was covered with every variety of food the country afforded, and was pronounced by general acclamation to be the rarest of dinners. Roast turkey, pig, chicken, duck, and all kinds of meat, baked, boiled, and broiled, formed a line the whole length of the extended table, while the vacant spaces were filled with tarts, jellies, and frosted cake, and pastry of many kinds. The young mistress walked around the table, smiling and saying a kind word to each one, and seemed to enjoy the scene exceedingly.
    When the dinner was over the tables were removed to make room for the dancers. I tuned my violin and struck up a lively air; while some joined in a nimble reel, others patted and sang their simple but melodious songs, filling the great room with music mingled with the sound of human voices and the clatter of many feet.
    In the evening the mistress returned, and stood in the door a long time, looking at us. She was magnificently arrayed. Her dark hair and eyes contrasted strongly with her clear and delicate complexion. Her form was slender but commanding, and her movement was a combination of unaffected dignity and grace. As she stood there, clad in her rich apparel, her face animated with pleasure, I thought I had never looked upon a human being half so beautiful. I dwell with delight upon the description of this fair and gentle lady, not only because she inspired me with emotions of gratitude and admiration, but because I would have the reader