"Their perfectly childlike faith in the promise of their old masters made their disappointment more acute than can be imagined by those who are used to the close bargains driven with the working community farther North. 'Ole mars'' represented to them their sole idea of vast wealth and power, and was usually almost worshipped. "I do not deny the many horrible exceptions, the shocking cruelties, that blot the records of slave-life; but I do maintain that they were exceptions, and that nine cases out of ten--nay, more than that proportion--that came under my personal observation proved that a sincere love existed between masters and slaves. In many instances I saw planters impoverished by the war supporting old slaves or whole families in absolute idleness, simply because the poor creatures, after a short trial of freedom's vicissitudes, had come back to 'home an' ole mars',' and he had not the heart to turn them away. "One woman, whose circumstances I knew, came to me for a pass to go North. "'But, Kate,' I said to her, 'you are much better off here than you can be at the North.' "'Done got _nuffin_' here,' she asserted positively. "'You have that little cabin Mrs. H---- allows you to live in.' "'Sho' now, Mars' Cap'n, 'course I has.' "'But at the North you will have no house unless you can pay for it.' "'Pay for it! Why, don't they gib deir niggas a cabin?' "'No. You may get a room, but you will have to pay so much a week to be allowed to live in it. And Mrs. H---- lets you have your food too.' "'But dey'll gib a nigga her food, cap'n--nebber make her pay for a han'fu' of meal an' a lash o' bacon?' "'You will have to pay for every mouthful. And it is cold there too, Kate--very cold at this time of the year. You will have to buy clothes or freeze to death.' "'But dey'll 'low me two suits?' "'Not unless you pay for them. And work is not plenty, Kate, for the cities are crowded with negroes who were discontented here. Suppose you cannot get work, you will have no cabin, no food, no clothes.'" "Did you convince her?" I asked. "No. She said to me, 'Guess you's mistaken 'bout dat ar, Mars' Cap'n. Dey _mus_' gib deir niggas a cabin an' a bite, you know; and dey makes piles o' money. And sho' now, Mars' Cap'n, all de _free_ folks is rich--dey mus' be. Nobody's po' dat's _free_.' "You see," he added earnestly, "they did not know what freedom meant. It was a gorgeous vision of doing as they pleased, unlimited riches and idleness. They could work or not: whether they starved or not, they had not taken into consideration. Freedom came upon them too suddenly, and they had no idea of personal responsibility." "But," I said, "they could form families, be free to keep their children."