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 6 of 131 (04%)
page 6 of 131 (04%)
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degradation oppressing her; but she resolved to
be circumspect, and try to regain in a measure what she had lost. Then some foul tongue would jest of her shame, and averted looks and cold greetings disheartened her. She saw she could not bury in forgetfulness her misdeed, so she resolved to leave her home and seek another in the place she at first fled from. Alas, how fearful are we to be first in extend- ing a helping hand to those who stagger in the mires of infamy; to speak the first words of hope and warning to those emerging into the sunlight of morality! Who can tell what numbers, ad- vancing just far enough to hear a cold welcome and join in the reserved converse of professed reformers, disappointed, disheartened, have cho- sen to dwell in unclean places, rather than en- counter these "holier-than-thou" of the great brotherhood of man! Such was Mag's experience; and disdaining to ask favor or friendship from a sneering world, she resolved to shut herself up in a hovel she had often passed in better days, and which she knew to be untenanted. She vowed to ask no favors of familiar faces; to die neglected and for- gotten before she would be dependent on any. Removed from the village, she was seldom seen except as upon your introduction, gentle reader, |
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