it is no consideration that tools are worn out, mules are destroyed,
or the slaves die; more can be bought for next year, and the slaveholder
says it pays to force a crop, though it be at the expense of life
among the hands.

At noon, the dinner is brought to each gang in a cart.
The hoers stop work only long enough to eat their poor fare standing,--
and poor fare indeed it is. The corn that is made into bread
is so filled with husks and ground so poorly that it is scarcely
better than the fodder given to the cattle; and the bacon,
if they have any, is badly cured and cooked. But they must eat
that or starve; there is no chance of getting any thing better.
The ploughmen take their dinners in the sheds where the mules are
allowed to rest; and since two hours is usually given these animals,
for rest and foddering, they, of course, must take the same.

At sunset they leave off work, and, tired and hungry, they have
to prepare their own supper; and after hastily eating it,
at nine o'clock the bell is rung for them to go to bed.
Sundays they are not usually required to work, and some planters
give their slaves a portion of Saturday, in the more leisure season;
and this intermission of field labor is all the opportunity they
have to wash and mend their clothes, or for any enjoyment.
What a sorry life! sixteen hours out of the twenty-four, with a hoe
in the hand, or a heavy cotton sack or basket tied about the neck,
toiling on under the curses and lash of the driver and the overseer.

Tidy dreaded it. Brought up as she had been, accustomed to comparatively
neat clothing, good food, cheerful associates, and light work,
how could she live here? She felt that she could not long endure it.