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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 99 of 131 (75%)

This affair never met with an "after clap," like
many others.

Thus passed a year. The usual amount of
scolding, but fewer whippings. Mrs. B. longed
once more for Mary's return, who had been
absent over a year; and she wrote imperatively
for her to come quickly to her. A letter came
in reply, announcing that she would comply as
soon as she was sufficiently recovered from an
illness which detained her.

No serious apprehensions were cherished by
either parent, who constantly looked for notice
of her arrival, by mail. Another letter brought
tidings that Mary was seriously ill; her mother's
presence was solicited.

She started without delay. Before she reached
her destination, a letter came to the parents
announcing her death.

No sooner was the astounding news received,
than Frado rushed into Aunt Abby's, exclaim-
ing:--

"She's dead, Aunt Abby!"

"Who?" she asked, terrified by the unpre-
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