"But oh, my friend," said he, with a most sanctimonious
air, "did you visit, and I am ashamed as an American
citizen to ask the question, I feel the blood a tannin'
of my cheek when I inquire, did you visit the South? That
land that is polluted with slavery, that land where the
boastin' and crackin' of freemen pile up the agony pangs
on the corroding wounds inflicted by the iron chains of
the slave, until natur can't stand it no more; my heart
bleeds like a stuck critter, when I think of this plague
spot on the body politic. I ought not to speak thus;
prudence forbids it, national pride forbids it; but
genu_wine_ feelings is too strong for polite forms. 'Out
of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh.' Have
you been there?"

"Turkey" was thrown off his guard, he opened his wallet,
which was well stocked, and retailed his stories, many
of them so very rich, that I doubted the capacity of the
Attache to out-Herod him. Mr. Slick received these tales
with evident horror, and complimented the narrator with
a well simulated groan; and when he had done, said, "Ah,
I see how it is, they have purposely kept dark about the
most atrocious features of slavery. Have you never seen
the Gougin' School?"

"No, never."

"What, not seen the Gougin' School?"