So, ez there's nothin' in the world I 'm fonder of 'an

gunnin',

I closed a bargin finally to take a feller runnin'.

I shou❜dered queen's-arm an' stumped out, and wen I come t' th' swamp,

'T worn't very long afore I gut upon the nest o' Pomp ; I come acrost a kin' o' hut, an', playin' round the door, Some little woolly-headed cubs, ez many 'z six or more. At fust I thought o' firin', but think twice is safest

ollers;

There aint, thinks I, not one on em' but 's wuth his twenty dollars,

Or would be, ef I hed 'em back into a Christian

land,

How temptin' all on 'em would look upon an auctionstand!

(Not but wut I hate slavery in th' abstract, stem to

starn,

I leave it ware our fathers did, a privit State consarn.) Soon 'z they see me, they yelled an' run, but Pomp wuz out ahoein'

A leetle patch o' corn he hed, or else there aint no

knowin'

He would n't ha' took a pop at me; but I hed gut the

start,

An' wen he looked, I vow he groaned ez though he'd

broke his heart;

He done it like a wite man, tu, ez nat'ral ez a pictur, The imp'dunt, pis'nous hypocrite! wus 'an a boy constrictur.

"You can't gum me, I tell ye now, an' so you need n't

try,

I 'xpect my eye-teeth every mail, so jest shet up," sez I.

"Don't go to actin' ugly now, or else I 'll jest let strip, You'd best draw kindly, seein' 'z how I 've gut ye on

the hip;

Besides, you darned ole fool, it aint no gret of a dis

aster

To be benev❜lently druv back to a contented master,

Ware

Or

you

hed Christian priv'ledges you don't seem quite aware of,

you

'd ha' never run away from bein' well took care of;

Ez fer kin' treatment, wy, he wuz so fond on ye, he

said

He'd give a fifty spot right out, to git ye, 'live or dead;

Wite folks aint sot by half ez much; 'member I run

away,

Wen I wuz bound to Cap'n Jakes, to Mattysqumscot

bay;

Don' know him, likely? Spose not; wal, the mean ole codger went

An' offered-wut reward, think? Wal, it worn't no less 'n a cent."

Wal, I jest gut 'em into line, and druv 'em on afore

me,

The pis'nous brutes, I'd no idee o' the ill-will they bore

me;

We walked till som'ers about noon, an' then it grew so

hot

I thought it best to camp awile, so I chose out a spot Jest under a magnoly tree, an' there right down I sot; Then I unstrapped my wooden leg, coz it begun to chafe,

An' laid it down jest by my side, supposin' all wuz safe; I made my darkies all set down around me in a ring, An' sot an' kin' o' ciphered up how much the lot would

bring;

But, wile I drinked the peaceful cup of a pure heart an'

mind,

(Mixed with some wiskey, now an' then,) Pomp he

snaked up behind,

An', creepin' grad'lly close tu, ez quiet ez a mink,

Jest grabbed my leg, and then pulled foot, quicker 'an you could wink,

An', come to look, they each on 'em hed gut behin' a

tree,

An' Pomp poked out the leg a piece, jest so ez I could

see,

An' yelled to me to throw away my pistils an' my gun, Or else thet they 'd cair off the leg an' fairly cut the

run.

I vow I did n't b'lieve there wuz a decent alligatur

Thet hed a heart so destitoot o' common human

natur;

However, ez there worn't no help, I finally give in

An' heft my arms away to git my leg safe back agin. Pomp gethered all the weapins up, an' then he come an' grinned,

He showed his ivory some, I guess, an' sez, "You 're fairly pinned;

Jest buckle on your leg agin, an' git right up an' come, 'T wun't du fer fammerly men like me to be so long from hum."

At fust I put my foot right down an' swore I would n't budge.

"Jest ez you choose," sez he, quite cool, "either be shot or trudge."

So this black-hearted monster took an' act'lly druv me

back

Along the very feetmarks o' my happy mornin' track, An' kep' me pris'ner 'bout six months, an' worked me,

tu, like sin,

Till I hed gut his corn an' his Carliny taters in;

He made me larn him readin,' tu, (although the crittur

saw

How much it hut my morril sense to act agin the law,)* So 'st he could read a Bible he'd gut; an' axed ef I

could pint

The North Star out; but there I put his nose some out

o' jint,

Fer I weeled roun' about sou'west, an', lookin 'up a bit, Picked out a middlin' shiny one an' tole him thet wuz it.

[It is a penal offence in some of the slave states to teach a slave to read.-J. C. H.]