And such a ghastly countenance, such distortions of the muscles, such a hellish glare of the eye, and such convulsions of the body--it made him shudder to think of them.] When we arose on Monday morning, the daylight has scarcely broken.

On looking out of the window, we saw the mill slowly moving in the wind, and the field gang were going out to their daily work.

Surely, we thought, this does not look much like the laziness and insubordination of freed negroes.

After dressing, we walked down to the mill, to have some conversation with the people.

They all bade us a cordial "good mornin'." The _tender_ of the mill was an old man, whose despised locks were gray and thin, and on whose brow the hands of time and sorrow had written many effaceless lines.