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nydus/The Quest of the Silver FleecePublic

In the post-Reconstruction era, a young Black man and woman from the deep South struggle to overcome the economic and political fleecing of their community.

Page 142 of 464
Table of Contents

XII

“Yas’m. He didn’t do his work right and he whipped him. I speck he needed it.”

“But he’s a grown man,” Miss Smith urged earnestly.

“Yas’m; he’s twenty now, and big.”

“Whipped him!” Miss Smith repeated. “And so you can’t leave?”

“No’m, he say he’ll sell us out and put us in de chain-gang if we go. The boys is plumb mad, but I’se a-pleadin’ with ’em not to do nothin’ rash.”

‚ÄúBut‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut I thought they had already started to work a crop on the Tolliver place?‚Äù

“Yes’m, dey had; but, you see, dey were arrested, and then Cunnel Cresswell took ’em and ’lowed they couldn’t leave his place. Ol’ man Tolliver was powerful mad.”

“Why, Aunt Rachel, it’s slavery!” cried the lady in dismay. Aunt Rachel did not offer to dispute her declaration.

‚ÄúYas‚Äôm, hit‚Äôs slavery,‚Äù she agreed. ‚ÄúI hates it mighty bad, too, ‚Äôcause I wanted de little chillens in school; but‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù The old woman broke down and sobbed.

A knocking came at the door; hastily wiping her eyes Aunt Rachel rose.

‚ÄúI‚Äôll‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚Äôll see what I can do, Aunt Rachel‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI must do something,‚Äù murmured Miss Smith hastily, as the woman departed, and an old black man came limping in. Miss Smith looked up in surprise.

‚ÄúI begs pardon, Mistress‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI begs pardon. Good morning.‚Äù

‚ÄúGood morning‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù she hesitated.

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