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%)
page 99 of 131 (75%)
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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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