During the time that Mr.Cook was overseer, I was a house servant--a situation preferable to that of a field hand, as I was better fed, better clothed, and not obliged to rise at the ringing of the bell, but about half an hour after.

I have often laid and heard the crack of the whip, and the screams of the slave.

My mother was a field hand, and one morning was ten or fifteen minutes behind the others in getting into the field.

As soon as she reached the spot where they were at work, the overseer commenced whipping her.

She cried, "Oh! pray--Oh! pray--Oh! pray"-- these are generally the words of slaves, when imploring mercy at the hands of their oppressors.