At sunset they leave off work, and, tired and hungry, they have to prepare their own supper; and after hastily eating it, at nine o'clock the bell is rung for them to go to bed. Sundays they are not usually required to work, and some planters give their slaves a portion of Saturday, in the more leisure season; and this intermission of field labor is all the opportunity they have to wash and mend their clothes, or for any enjoyment. What a sorry life! sixteen hours out of the twenty-four, with a hoe in the hand, or a heavy cotton sack or basket tied about the neck, toiling on under the curses and lash of the driver and the overseer. Tidy dreaded it. Brought up as she had been, accustomed to comparatively neat clothing, good food, cheerful associates, and light work, how could she live here? She felt that she could not long endure it. Her strength would fail, her task be unfinished, then she must be punished, and before long, through hard fare, unwearied toil, and ill usage, she felt that she should die. But there was no help. Once she had ventured to send an entreaty to her master to take her back to house service. But he was hardhearted and unrelenting, and declared with an oath that made her ears tingle that she should never leave the cotton-field till she died, and there was no power in heaven or earth that could make him change his determination. So she hopelessly plodded on, day after day, scorched beneath the hot sun, and drenched with the pouring rain, weak, faint, and thirsty, trembling before the coarse shouts, and shrinking from the tormenting lash of the pitiless driver, sure that her fate was sealed. [illustration omitted] Was there no eye to pity, and no arm to rescue? Yes, the unseen God, whose name is love, was leading her still. Through all the dark, rough places of her life, his kind, invisible hand was laying link to link in that wondrous chain which was finally to bring her safe and happy into his own bosom. CHAPTER XVI. RESCUE. THE slaves on Mr. Turner's plantation had no SABBATH. To be sure, they were not driven to the field on Sunday, because it was considered an economic provision to let man and beast rest one day out of the seven. But they had no church to attend, and never had any meetings among themselves. Indeed there were no pious ones among them. The men took the day for sport; the women washed and ironed, sewed and cooked, and did various necessary chores for themselves and children, for which they were allowed no other opportunity; and spent the rest of the day in rude singing, dancing, and boisterous merriment. Tidy could not live as the rest did. She could not forget the instructions and habits of the past. She preferred to sit up later on Saturday evening to do the work which others did on Sunday, and when that day came, she never entered into their coarse gayety and mirth. She had no heart for it, and did not care though she was reviled and scoffed at for her particular, pious ways.