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 39 of 131 (29%)
page 39 of 131 (29%)
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importance; her feet were speeding hither and
thither so unsparingly. Mrs. Bellmont seemed a trifle fatigued, and her shoes which had, early in the morning, a methodic squeak, altered to an irregular, peevish snap. "Get some little wood to make the fire burn," said Mrs. Bellmont, in a sharp tone. Frado obeyed, bringing the smallest she could find. Mrs. Bellmont approached her, and, giving her a box on her ear, reiterated the command. The first the child brought was the smallest to be found; of course, the second must be a trifle larger. She well knew it was, as she threw it into a box on the hearth. To Mrs. Bellmont it was a greater affront, as well as larger wood, so she "taught her" with the raw-hide, and sent her the third time for "little wood." Nig, weeping, knew not what to do. She had carried the smallest; none left would suit her mistress; of course further punishment await- ed her; so she gathered up whatever came first, and threw it down on the hearth. As she ex- pected, Mrs. Bellmont, enraged, approached her, and kicked her so forcibly as to throw her upon the floor. Before she could rise, another foiled the attempt, and then followed kick after kick in |
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