“What have you got in that blue dish, there?” said George, when the whole little circle were seated around the table. “Well, now, what _do_ you suppose?” said the little woman, delighted;--“a quart of nice oysters,--just for a treat, you know. I wouldn’t tell you till this minute,” said she, raising the cover. “Well,” said George, “we both work hard for our money, and we don’t owe anybody a cent; and why shouldn’t we have our treats, now and then, as well as rich folks?” And gayly passed the supper hour; the tea-kettle sung, the baby crowed, and all chatted and laughed abundantly. “I’ll tell you,” said George, wiping his mouth, “wife, these times are quite another thing from what it used to be down in Georgia. I remember then old Mas’r used to hire me out by the year; and one time, I remember, I came and paid him in two hundred dollars,--every cent I’d taken. He just looked it over, counted it, and put it in his pocket-book, and said, ‘You are a good boy, George,’--and he gave me _half-a-dollar_!” “I want to know, now!” said his wife. “Yes, he did, and that was every cent I ever got of it; and, I tell you, I was mighty bad off for clothes, them times.” “Well, well, the Lord be praised, they’re over, and you are in a free country now!” said the wife, as she rose thoughtfully from the table, and brought her husband the great Bible. The little circle were ranged around the stove for evening prayers. “Henry, my boy, you must read,--you are a better reader than your father,--thank God, that let you learn early!” The boy, with a cheerful readiness, read, “The Lord is my shepherd,” and the mother gently stilled the noisy baby, to listen to the holy words. Then all kneeled, while the father, with simple earnestness, poured out his soul to God. They had but just risen,--the words of Christian hope and trust scarce died on their lips,--when lo! the door was burst open, and two men entered; and one of them advancing, laid his hand on the father’s shoulder. “This is the fellow,” said he. “You are arrested in the name of the United States!” said the other. “Gentlemen, what is this?” said the poor man, trembling. “Are you not the property of _Mr. B._, of Georgia?” said the officer. “Gentlemen, I’ve been a free, hard-working man, these ten years.” “Yes, but you are arrested, on suit of Mr. B., as his slave.” Shall we describe the leave-taking?--the sorrowing wife, the dismayed children, the tears, the anguish,--that simple, honest, kindly home, in a moment so desolated! Ah, ye who defend this because it is law, think, for one hour, what if this that happens to your poor brother should happen to you! * * * * * It was a crowded court-room, and the man stood there to be tried--for life?--no; but for the life of life--for liberty!