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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 46 of 131 (35%)
"I know how to fix him," said Jack. Taking
a plate from the table, which was still waiting,
he called, "Fido! Fido! Frado wants some sup-
per. Come!" Jack started, the dog followed,
and soon capered on before, far, far into the
fields, over walls and through fences, into a
piece of swampy land. Jack followed close, and
soon appeared to James, who was quite in the
rear, coaxing and forcing Frado along with him.

A frail child, driven from shelter by the cru-
elty of his mother, was an object of interest to
James. They persuaded her to go home with
them, warmed her by the kitchen fire, gave her
a good supper, and took her with them into the
sitting-room.

"Take that nigger out of my sight," was Mrs.
Bellmont's command, before they could be
seated.

James led her into Aunt Abby's, where he
knew they were welcome. They chatted awhile
until Frado seemed cheerful; then James led
her to her room, and waited until she retired.

"Are you glad I've come home?" asked
James.

"Yes; if you won't let me be whipped to-
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