This, I am aware, gives the thumbs a flattened look.

One of our principal pro-slavery students delights to laugh at me to my face.

Perhaps I am wrong in connecting everything with this all-absorbing theme, but, truly, my thoughts all run in that direction.

Mother and you were accustomed to send me on errands when I was little, and you placed your money in my right hand and mother hers in my left, because, on my return to our house, your room was on the right hand of the entry.

So I used to go along, holding your respective moneys in my palms, with my thumbs stopping the apertures.