No. 21. Isam, a field hand, 40 years old, is not able to bring more than $700, because his youth has gone. Of course, a mule of 18 is worth less than one of 6 years. It is certainly very reasonable to sell an old animal for less than a young one. But, let us see what kind of an animal Isam is? Isam is not a strong man; his health is rather delicate; but his mind is sound. He has not only an inclination toward religion, he is himself a Christian, and he acts on Sundays among his unfortunate fellow-men as a minister of the gospel. What! A minister of the gospel a brute--to be sold at auction for $700! Is not that a shameful untruth? No barbarian, in whatever part of the globe, will sell at public auction the priest of his faith for any money! Behold, ye nations of Christendom! There is a country which is called a Christian one, in which a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ is sold at public auction like a brute! Will that time never come when such as he shall be sold no more to the highest bidder by the pretended disciples of that Savior who came to break every yoke, and to set every captive free? No. 22. Yellow Charles, carter and plowman, (has a short leg from infancy,) 27 years of age, is sold for $950,--a very trifling sum. Yes, indeed, trifling for his own natural father--the rich banker--the man of refinement--the gallant ‘defender of liberty.’ No. 23. Sam Bayou, field hand, 32 years old, for $1075. No. 24. Brown, field hand, 28 years, brings $1200. No. 25. George, the valorous, 26 years old, strong enough to be a rival to his celebrated namesake, the dragon-killing knight of the middle ages. At least, he is able to kill two alligators in five minutes. George (not the knight) is sold for $1400. No. 26. Etienne, carter and plowman, 29, sold for $1150. No. 27. Quacco, plowman and carpenter, a young man of 23, brings $1275. No. 28. Bob, blind of one eye, plowman and carter, aged 35, brings $850. Why only $850? Because he has but one eye. How did he lose the other? When he was a little boy, he had a sister, a very kind and gentle little girl, whom he dearly loved. One Sunday, they were walking together near the plantation to which they belonged. Beneath an orange tree, covered with red, beautiful, juicy fruits, they sat down upon the grass. Nancy, which was the name of the little girl, dropped silently her head; not a word came from her lips, but large drops fell from her eyes upon the grass. Bob took her hands in his, asking her tenderly, ‘Sis, what is the matter with you? Why will you cry?’ ‘O Bob,’ sobbed she, ‘I am very unhappy--I wish to die.’ ‘Why, Nancy?’ But Nancy gave no answer--all her limbs trembled--her eyes stared in agony towards the sugar-house. A big white boy came running towards them, holding in his hand a large whip. It was Peter, the overseer’s oldest son--the most malicious and cruel young rascal in the parish--the terror of the poor slaves on the plantation.