Mr. Usom said, "Well, how do you think it will be with poor fellows that
have to go there?" "Well, Massa Bob, I will tell you what I tinks about
it, I tinks us niggers need not trouble usselves about hell, as the
white folks." "How is that, Jack?" Jack answered, "Because us niggers
have to work out in the hot sun, and if we go to hell it would not be so
bad for us because us used to heat, but it will be bad for white folks
because they is not used to hot weather."


THE STORY OF JAMES SWINE AND HIS DEATH.

There was a negro who belonged to one Mr. Clarkson; he was called Jim
Swine; his right name was James, but he was called Jim Swine because he
loved hog meat and would often steal hogs from his master or from the
neighbors; he was a very able-bodied man, weighing about two hundred and
twenty-five pounds, and a very good field hand. Of course it is
generally known that a great many of the slaves were poorly fed, so it
was natural that they should take anything they could to sustain life.
As his master had only a few hogs, he stole many from the neighbors and
was punished a great many times for it.

Sometimes he was punished when a hog was missing, even though they did
not find the meat with him. Jim was not in the habit of running away
much, but if they whipped him when he had not stolen the hog they
accused him of taking, he would go away into the woods and stay until he
got ready to come home. He was so strong that they were afraid of him;
three or four men would not attack him when in the woods. The last time
Jim stole hogs he was caught in the act of taking one from my master,
Col. Singleton. They tied him, and Mr. Clarkson's overseer was sent for,
who was his own son, Thomas Clarkson. Jim was taken home, whipped, and a