name. You may go, now."

"What does Vingo mean, mother? he talks so strangely sometimes about my
being left here by the Lord, and goes on muttering something to himself,
which I cannot understand, and laughs as if he was very happy."

"It is his way of expressing himself, my dear; the negroes are a
peculiar race."

"Yes, I think they are; I like their ways, they are always so kind. Are
not their dispositions better than those of some white people? I never
heard of a black man being cruel to any one, but I have seen the prints
of a whip-lash on Vingo's neck, where he said his old massa used to
whip him; and I asked him many times over, if he was sure it was a white
man who whipped him, and he said yes, he was sure, for he remembers he
used to wish white folks were black, so they could not tell which were
the negroes."

"There are some very hard-hearted people in the world. Vingo was brought
up in slavery; when you are a little older you will understand
it better."

"Dear mother, you know what is best for me; but often, when I am
interested in what is said, and ask questions, people tell me I will
understand it when I am a little older; and when I sit down by myself,
and they think I have forgotten all about it, I find myself wishing I
was "a little older," for it disappoints me so much to leave a story not
finished."

Mrs. Grosvenor looked at the child in silence.