"Take that, you liar," and again he struck her, and thus he continued until he had to stop from exhaustion. There she stood, partially naked, bleeding at every wound, yet none of us dared go near and offer her even a glass of cold water. "Has she told where they are?" asked Miss Tildy. "No, she says she give 'em to you." "Well, she tells an infamous lie; and I hope you will beat her until pain forces her to acknowledge what she has done with them." "Oh, I'll git it out of her yet, and by blood, too." "Yes, father, Amy needs a good whipping," said Miss Jane, "for she has been sulky ever since we took her in the house. Two or three times I've thought of asking you to have her taken to the post." "Yes, I've noticed that she's give herself a good many ars. It does me rale good to take 'em out of her." "Yes, father, you are a real negro-breaker. They don't dare behave badly where you are." This, Mr. Peterkin regarded as high praise; for, whenever he related the good qualities of a favorite friend, he invariably mentioned that he was a "tight master;" so he smiled at his daughter's compliment. "Yes," said Miss Tildy, "whenever father approaches, the darkies should set up the tune, 'See the conquering hero comes.'" "Good, first-rate, Tildy," replied Miss Jane. "'Till is a wit." "Yes, you are both high-larn't gals, a-head of yer pappy." "Oh, father, please don't speak in that way." "It was the fashion when I was edicated." "Just listen," they both exclaimed. "Jake," called out Mr. Peterkin, whose wrath was getting excited by the criticisms of his daughters, "go and bring Amy here." In a few moments Jake returned, accompanied by Amy. The blood was oozing through the body and sleeves of the frock that she had hastily thrown on. "Whar's the spoons?" thundered out Mr. Peterkin. "I give 'em to Miss Tildy." "You are a liar," said Miss Tildy, as she dashed up to her, and struck her a severe blow on the temple with a heated poker. Amy dared not parry the blow; but, as she received it, she fell fainting to the floor. Mr. Peterkin ordered Jake to take her out of their presence. She was taken to the cabin and left lying on the floor. When I went in to see her, a horrid spectacle met my view! There she lay stretched upon the floor, blood oozing from her whole body. I washed it off nicely and greased her wounds, as poor Aunt Polly had once done for me; but these attentions had to be rendered in a very secret manner. It would have been called treason, and punished as such, if I had been discovered. I had scarcely got her cleansed, and her wounds dressed, before she was sent for again.