Kentucky -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Slavery -- United States -- Fiction
Master got out of his chair and went to the window before a word of
reply came from him; he looked out upon the broad spread of green
sward, flooded with sun-light, he turned back toward his uncle and then
he said: "I can't. I want him, and he must stay with me. I don't want
him so much as a servant as I do as a companion. Other men may be
liars, but he tells me the truth. My thoughts are his and I hope that
his are mine. At midnight, when the world is still and my mind is in an
uproar, I do not struggle alone, but awake him and he steps gladly into
the whirl-wind. Uncle Clem, I have a real affection for him, so strong
that it is selfish. If I should set him free, he couldn't stay here,
and besides, not yet being of age, I cannot give him freedom."
"An argument," said a voice at the door, and looking up, we saw the
doctor stand there. No one spoke a word bidding him to enter, but he
stepped into the room. "Well," said Mr. Clem, speaking to Master, "I
must go."
"Won't you stay longer, Uncle?"
"No, I've got to go down the creek and kill a snake."
"I'll go with you," said master. "Come with us, Dan."
"May I have a few moments with this boy?" the doctor asked, looking at
Master and then leering at me.
Mr. Clem had reached the door but he turned back. Master wanted to know
of the doctor what business he could have with me, whereupon he said:
"Oh, just a little private matter."
"But, sir, Dan keeps none of his affairs private from me."
"Indeed! A very close relationship, I must say."
"Must you? I didn't know that you felt an obligation."
"An obligation? What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, you said you must say, and must moves us to discharge an
obligation."
"If a barber were as much given to the splitting of hairs, we'd never
be more than half shaved."
"And if the instinct of the wolf prompted bristles to grow
continuously, and if no barber cut them off, I could pick out a man
whose beard would soon drag the ground."
Mr. Clem laid his hands upon the door-facing and snorted. "What ails
you, sir?" the doctor asked, turning toward him, and Mr. Clem, without
looking round, said: "Bob, they've got a fish over in Illinois they
call the doctor. Hook one of them and you think you've got something,
but pull him out and you find he's all bill. Come on and let's go after
that snake."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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