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In one of his visits, he happened to find a young girl, whom he had sold to
a trader a few days previous. His statement was, that he sold her because
she had been too familiar with the overseer. She had had a bitter life with
him, and was glad to be sold. She had no mother, and no near ties. She had
been torn from all her family years before. A few friends had entered into
bonds for her safety, if the trader would allow her to spend with them the
time that intervened between her sale and the gathering up of his human
stock. Such a favor was rarely granted. It saved the trader the expense of
board and jail fees, and though the amount was small, it was a weighty
consideration in a slavetrader's mind.
Dr. Flint always had an aversion to meeting slaves after he had sold them.
He ordered Rose out of the house; but he was no longer her master, and she
took no notice of him. For once the crushed Rose was the conqueror. His
gray eyes flashed angrily upon her; but that was the extent of his power.
"How came this girl here?" he exclaimed. "What right had you to allow it,
when you knew I had sold her?"
I answered, "This is my grandmother's house, and Rose came to see her. I
have no right to turn any body out of doors, that comes here for honest
purposes."
He gave me the blow that would have fallen upon Rose if she had still been
his slave. My grandmother's attention had been attracted by loud voices,
and she entered in time to see a second blow dealt. She was not a woman to
let such an outrage, in her own house, go unrebuked. The doctor undertook
to explain that I had been insolent. Her indignant feelings rose higher and
higher, and finally boiled over in words. "Get out of my house!" she
exclaimed. "Go home, and take care of your wife and children, and you will
have enough to do, without watching my family."
He threw the birth of my children in her face, and accused her of
sanctioning the life I was leading. She told him I was living with her by
compulsion of his wife; that he needn't accuse her, for he was the one to
blame; he was the one who had caused all the trouble. She grew more and
more excited as she went on. "I tell you what, Dr. Flint," said she, "you
ain't got many more years to live, and you'd better be saying your prayers.
It will take 'em all, and more too, to wash the dirt off your soul."
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