First of all
came the beautiful Marion, whose pale countenance and dejected
look told how many sad hours she had passed since parting with her
mother at Natchez. There, too, was a poor woman who had been
separated from her husband; and another woman, whose looks and
manners were expressive of deep anguish, sat by her side. There
was "Uncle Jeems," with his whiskers off, his face shaven clean,
and the gray hairs plucked out ready to be sold for ten years
younger than he was. Toby was also there, with his face shaven and
greased, ready for inspection.
The examination commenced, and was carried on in such a manner as
to shock the feelings of anyone not entirely devoid of the milk of
human kindness.
"What are you wiping your eyes for?" inquired a fat, red-faced man,
with a white hat set on one side of his head and a cigar in his
mouth, of a woman who sat on one of the benches.
"Because I left my man behind."
"Oh, if I buy you, I will furnish you with a better man than you
left. I've got lots of young bucks on my farm."
"I don't want and never will have another man," replied the woman.
"What's your name?" asked a man in a straw hat of a tall negro who
stood with his arms folded across his breast, leaning against the
wall.
"My name is Aaron, sar."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
"Where were you raised?"
"In ole Virginny, sar."
"How many men have owned you?"
"Four."
"Do you enjoy good health?"
"Yes, sar."
"How long did you live with your first owner?"
"Twenty years.
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