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Robert, ā€œwhat has that got to do with your going with us and getting your freedom?ā€

ā€œNow, jesā€™ wait a bit, and donā€™t frustrate my mine. I seed day arter day Miss Anna war gettinā€™ weaker and thinner, anā€™ she looked so sweet and talked so putty, I thinks to myself, ā€˜you ainā€™t long for dis worlā€™.ā€™ And she said to me one day, ā€˜Uncle Danā€™el, when Iā€™se gone, I want you to be good to your Marster Robert.ā€™ Anā€™ she looked so pale and weak I war almost ready to cry. I couldnā€™t help it. She hed allers bin mighty good to me. Anā€™ I beliebs in praisinā€™ de bridge dat carries me ober. She said, ā€˜Uncle Danā€™el, I wish you war free. Ef I had my way you shouldnā€™t serve anyone when Iā€™m gone; but Mr. Thurston had eberything in his power when he made his will. I war tied hand and foot, and I couldnā€™t help it.ā€™ In a little while she war goneā ā€”jisā€™ faded away like a flower. I belieb ef dereā€™s a saint in glory, Miss Annaā€™s dere.ā€

ā€œOh, I donā€™t take much stock in white folksā€™ religion,ā€ said Robert, laughing carelessly.

ā€œThe way,ā€ said Tom Anderson, ā€œdat some of dese folks cut their cards yere, I think deyā€™ll be as sceece in hebben as henā€™s teeth. I think wen some of dem preachers brings de Bible ā€™round anā€™ tells us ā€™bout mindin our marsters and not stealinā€™ dere tings, dat dey preach to please de white folks, anā€™ dey frows coleness ober de meetinā€™.ā€

ā€œAnā€™ I,ā€ said Aunt Linda, ā€œneber did belieb in dem Bible preachers. I yered one ob dem sayinā€™ wen he war dyinā€™, it war all dark wid him. Anā€™ de way he treated his house-girl, pore thing, I donā€™t wonder dat it war dark wid him.ā€

ā€œO, I guess,ā€ said Robert, ā€œthat the Bible is all right, but some of these church folks donā€™t get the right hang of it.ā€

ā€œMay be datā€™s so,ā€ said Aunt Linda. ā€œBut I allers wanted to learn how to read. I once had a book, and tried to make out what war in it, but ebery time my mistus caught me wid a book in my hand, she used to whip my fingers. Anā€™ I couldnā€™t see ef it war good for white folks, why it warnā€™t good for cullud folks.ā€

ā€œWell,ā€ said Tom Anderson, ā€œI belieb in de good ole-time religion. But arter dese white folks is done fussinā€™ and beatinā€™ de cullud folks, I donā€™t want ā€™em to come talking religion to me. We used to hab on our place a real Guinea man, anā€™ once he made ole Marse mad, anā€™ he had him whipped. Old Marse war trying to break him in, but dat fellow war spunk to de backbone, anā€™ when he ā€™gin talkinā€™ to him ā€™bout savinā€™ his soul anā€™ gittinā€™ to hebbin, he tole him ef he went to hebbin anā€™ founā€™ he war dare, he wouldnā€™t go in. He wouldnā€™t stay wid any such rascal as he war.ā€

ā€œWhat became of him?ā€ asked Robert.

ā€œOh, he died. But he had some quare notions ā€™bout religion. He thought dat when he died he would go back to his ole country. He allers kepā€™ his ole Guinea name.ā€

ā€œWhat was it?ā€

ā€œPotobombra. Do you know what he wanted Marster to do ā€™fore he died?ā€ continued Anderson.

ā€œNo.ā€

ā€œHe wanted him to gib him his free papers.ā€

ā€œDid he do it?ā€

ā€œOb course he did. As de poor fellow war dying anā€™ he couldnā€™t sell him in de oder world, he jisā€™ wrote him de papers to yumor him. He didnā€™t want to go back to Africa a slave. He thought if he did, his people would look down on him, anā€™ he wanted to go back a free man. He war orful weak when Marster brought him de free papers. He jisā€™ ris up in de bed, clutched dem in his hanā€™s, smiled, anā€™ gasped out, ā€˜Iā€™se free at lasā€™; anā€™ fell back on de pillar, anā€™ he war gone. Oh, but he war spunky. De oberseers, arter dey founā€™ out who he war, ginā€™rally gabe him a wide birth. I specs his father war some ole Guinea king.ā€

ā€œWell, chillen,ā€ said Uncle Daniel, ā€œweā€™s kept up dis meeting long enough. Weā€™d better go home, and not all go one way, cause de patrollers might git us all inter trouble, anā€™ we must try to slip home by hook or crook.ā€

ā€œAnā€™ when we meet again, Uncle Daniel can finish his story, anā€™ be ready to go with us,ā€ said Robert.

ā€œI wish,ā€ said Tom Anderson, ā€œhe would go wid us, de wuss kind.ā€

III Uncle Danielā€™s Story

The Union had snapped asunder because it lacked the cohesion of justice, and the Nation was destined to pass through the crucible of disaster and defeat, till she was ready to clasp hands with the negro and march abreast with him to freedom and victory.

The Union army was encamping a few miles from Cā āøŗ, in North Carolina. Robert, being well posted on the condition of affairs, had stealthily contrived to call a meeting in Uncle Danielā€™s cabin. Uncle Danielā€™s wife had gone to bed as a sick sister, and they held a prayer-meeting by her bedside. It was a little risky, but as Mr. Thurston did not encourage the visits of the patrollers, and heartily detested having them prying into his cabins, there was not much danger of molestation.

ā€œWell, Uncle Daniel, we want to hear your story, and see if you have made up your mind to go with us,ā€ said Robert, after he had been seated a few minutes in Uncle Danielā€™s cabin.

ā€œNo, chillen, Iā€™ve no objection to finishinā€™ my story, but I ainā€™t made up my mind to leave the place till Marse Robert gits back.ā€

ā€œYou were telling us about Marse Robertā€™s mother. How did you get along after she died?ā€

ā€œArter she war gone, ole Marsterā€™s folks come to look arter things. But eberything war lefā€™ to Marse Robert, anā€™ he wouldnā€™t do widout

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