suppose.

The speculator, who was a jolly-looking man weighing over two hundred
pounds, came forward to meet Major Waldron and show him over the
encampment.

The negroes were well clothed, well fed, and the great majority of
them looked exceedingly happy.

They came across one group of boys and girls dancing and singing. An
old man, in another group, had collected a number of eager listeners
around him, and was recounting some marvellous tale; but occasionally
there would be a sad face and a tearful eye, and Mr. Waldron sighed as
he passed these, knowing that they were probably grieving over the
home and friends they had left.

As they came to one of the tents, the speculator said, "There is a
sick yellow woman in there, that I bought in Maryland. She had to be
sold in the settlement of an estate, and she has fretted herself
almost to death; she is in such bad health now that I doubt if anybody
will buy her, though she has a very likely little boy about two years
old."

Mr. Waldron expressed a wish to see the woman, and they went in.

Lying on a very comfortable bed was a woman nearly white; her eyes
were deep-sunken in her head, and she was painfully thin. Mr. Waldron
took her hand in his and looked into her sad eyes.

"Do you feel much pain?" he asked, tenderly.