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 59 of 131 (45%)
page 59 of 131 (45%)
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bility. She would show herself in the kitchen
long enough to relieve herself of some command, better withheld; or insist upon some compliance to her wishes in some department which she was very imperfectly acquainted with, very much less than the person she was addressing; and so im- petuous till her orders were obeyed, that to escape the turmoil, Nig would often go contrary to her own knowledge to gain a respite. Nig was taken sick! What could be done The WORK, certainly, but not by Miss Mary. So Nig would work while she could remain erect, then sink down upon the floor, or a chair, till she could rally for a fresh effort. Mary would look in upon her, chide her for her laziness, threaten to tell mother when she came home, and so forth. "Nig!" screamed Mary, one of her sickest days, "come here, and sweep these threads from the carpet." She attempted to drag her weary limbs along, using the broom as support. Impa- tient of delay, she called again, but with a differ- ent request. "Bring me some wood, you lazy jade, quick." Nig rested the broom against the wall, and started on the fresh behest. Too long gone. Flushed with anger, she rose and greeted her with, "What are you gone so |
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