Thus, freed from all restraint, the slave-boy can be, in his life and conduct, a genuine boy, doing whatever his boyish nature suggests; enacting, by turns, all the strange antics and freaks of horses, dogs, pigs, and barn-door fowls, without in any manner compromising his dignity, or incurring reproach of any sort.

He literally runs wild; has no pretty little verses to learn in the nursery; no nice little speeches to make for aunts, uncles, or cousins, to show how smart he is; and, if he can only manage to keep out of the way of the heavy feet and fists of the older slave boys, he may trot on, in his joyous and roguish tricks, as happy as any little heathen under the palm trees of Africa.

To be sure, he is occasionally reminded, when he stumbles in the path of his master--and this he early learns to avoid--that he is eating his _"white bread,"_ and that he will be made to _"see sights"_ by-and-by.

The threat is soon forgotten; the shadow soon passes, and our sable boy continues to roll in the dust, or play in the mud, as bests suits him, and in the veriest freedom.

If he feels uncomfortable, from mud or from dust, the coast is clear; he can plunge into{32} the river or the pond, without the ceremony of undressing, or the fear of wetting his clothes; his little tow-linen shirt--for that is all he has on--is easily dried; and it needed ablution as much as did his skin.