and another woman, whose looks and manners were expressive
of deep anguish, sat by her side. There was "Uncle Jeems,"
with his whiskers off, his face shaven clean, and the gray hairs
plucked out, ready to be sold for ten years younger than he was.
Toby was also there, with his face shaven and greased,
ready for inspection.

The examination commenced, and was carried on in such a manner as to shock
the feelings of any one not entirely devoid of the milk of human kindness.

"What are you wiping your eyes for?" inquired a far, red-faced man,
with a white hat set on one side of his head and a cigar in his mouth,
of a woman who sat on one of the benches.

"Because I left my man behind."

"Oh, if I buy you, I will furnish you with a better man than you left.
I've got lots of young bucks on my farm."

"I don't want and never will have another man," replied the woman.

"What's you name?" asked a man in a straw hat of a tall negro who stood
with his arms folded across his breast, leaning against the wall.

"My name is Aaron, sar."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five."