"COTTON-FIELD HANDS.--By Beard, Calhoun, and Co., auctioneers.--Will be
sold at auction, on Friday, the 5th inst., at 12 o'clock, at Bank's
Arcade, thirty-seven Field Slaves; comprising eighteen from one
plantation, and fourteen from another. All acclimated Negroes. To be
sold in Families. Full particulars at sale."

"F. 4."

Setting off a few minutes before 12, after about half-a-dozen
inquiries, and as many "guessing" answers, I found "Bank's Arcade." It
was very near the Presbyterian church, in which I had heard such
excellent sermons on the preceding Sabbath. It was a large open
building: one side occupied as a bar for the retail of strong drinks,
and the other fitted up for auctioneering purposes,--there being
conveniences for three or four of the trade to exercise their vocation
at the same time. One end was used for the sale of books and other
publications, chiefly novels; and the other for the exhibition of fancy
goods.

As I got in at one end, I heard a voice--with that peculiar, twirling,
rapid, nasal twang, which marks the Transatlantic auctioneer--say, "400
dollars for this fine young woman--only 400 dollars--420, only
420--430--440, only 440 dollars offered for this fine young woman." By
this time I had got in front of the performer, and had a full view of
the whole affair. And sure enough she was a "fine young woman," about
twenty-three years of age, neatly dressed, not quite----But the scene
shall form the subject of my next letter.