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Our nig, or, sketches from the life of a free black, in a two-story white house, North showing that slavery's shadows fall even there by Harriet E. Wilson
page 33 of 131 (25%)
Frado was "shut up yet."

The knowledge of her innocence, the perfidy
of his sister, worked fearfully on Jack. He
bounded from his chair, searched every room
till he found the child; her mouth wedged
apart, her face swollen, and full of pain.

How Jack pitied her! He relieved her jaws,
brought her some supper, took her to her room,
comforted her as well as he knew how, sat by her
till she fell asleep, and then left for the sitting
room. As he passed his mother, he remarked,
"If that was the way Frado was to be treated, he
hoped she would never wake again!" He then
imparted her situation to his father, who seemed
untouched, till a glance at Jack exposed a tear-
ful eye. Jack went early to her next morning.
She awoke sad, but refreshed. After breakfast
Jack took her with him to the field, and kept
her through the day. But it could not be so
generally. She must return to school, to her
household duties. He resolved to do what he
could to protect her from Mary and his mother.
He bought her a dog, which became a great
favorite with both. The invalid, Jane, would
gladly befriend her; but she had not the
strength to brave the iron will of her mother.
Kind words and affectionate glances were the
only expressions of sympathy she could safely
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