Our Nig | Page 5

sudden expedient which he had uninten- tionally disclosed, roused
his thinking and invent- ive powers to study upon the best method of
introducing the subject to Mag.
He belted his barrels, with many a scheme re- volving in his mind,
none of which quite satisfied him, or seemed, on the whole, expedient.

He thought of the pleasing contrast between her fair face and his own
dark skin; the smooth, straight hair, which he had once, in expression
of pity, kindly stroked on her now wrinkled but once fair brow. There
was a tempest gathering in his heart, and at last, to ease his pent-up
passion, he exclaimed aloud, "By golly!" Recollecting his former
exposure, he glanced around to see if Pete was in hearing again.
Satisfied on this point, he continued: "She'd be as much of a prize to me
as she'd fall short of coming up to the mark with white folks. I don't
care for past things. I've done things 'fore now I's 'shamed of. She's
good enough for me, any how."
One more glance about the premises to be sure Pete was away.
The next Saturday night brought Jim to the hovel again. The cold was
fast coming to tarry its apportioned time. Mag was nearly despairing of
meeting its rigor.
"How's the wood, Mag?" asked Jim.
"All gone; and no more to cut, any how," was the reply.
"Too bad!" Jim said. His truthful reply would have been, I'm glad.
"Anything to eat in the house?" continued he.
"No," replied Mag.
"Too bad!" again, orally, with the same INWARD gratulation as
before.
"Well, Mag," said Jim, after a short pause, "you's down low enough. I
don't see but I've got to take care of ye. 'Sposin' we marry!"
Mag raised her eyes, full of amazement, and uttered a sonorous
"What?"
Jim felt abashed for a moment. He knew well what were her objections.
"You's had trial of white folks any how. They run off and left ye, and
now none of 'em come near ye to see if you's dead or alive. I's black
outside, I know, but I's got a white heart inside. Which you rather have,
a black heart in a white skin, or a white heart in a black one?"
"Oh, dear!" sighed Mag; "Nobody on earth cares for ME--"
"I do," interrupted Jim.
"I can do but two things," said she, "beg my living, or get it from you."
"Take me, Mag. I can give you a better home than this, and not let you
suffer so."
He prevailed; they married. You can philos- ophize, gentle reader, upon
the impropriety of such unions, and preach dozens of sermons on the

evils of amalgamation. Want is a more power- ful philosopher and
preacher. Poor Mag. She has sundered another bond which held her to
her fellows. She has descended another step down the ladder of infamy.




CHAPTER II
.
MY FATHER'S DEATH.
Misery! we have known each other, Like a sister and a brother, Living
in the same lone home Many years--we must live some Hours or ages
yet to come. SHELLEY.

JIM, proud of his treasure,--a white wife,-- tried hard to fulfil his
promises; and furnished her with a more comfortable dwelling, diet,
and apparel. It was comparatively a comfortable winter she passed after
her marriage. When Jim could work, all went on well. Industrious, and
fond of Mag, he was determined she should not regret her union to him.
Time levied an additional charge upon him, in the form of two pretty
mulattos, whose infantile pranks amply repaid the additional toil. A few
years, and a severe cough and pain in his side compelled him to be an
idler for weeks together, and Mag had thus a reminder of by-gones. She
cared for him only as a means to subserve her own comfort; yet she
nursed him faithfully and true to mar- riage vows till death released her.
He became the victim of consumption. He loved Mag to the last. So
long as life continued, he stifled his sensibility to pain, and toiled for
her sustenance long after he was able to do so.
A few expressive wishes for her welfare; a hope of better days for her;
an anxiety lest they should not all go to the "good place;" brief advice
about their children; a hope ex- pressed that Mag would not be
neglected as she used to be; the manifestation of Christian pa- tience;
these were ALL the legacy of miserable Mag. A feeling of cold

desolation came over her, as she turned from the grave of one who had
been truly faithful to her.
She was now expelled from companionship with white people; this last
step--her union with a black--was the climax of repulsion.
Seth Shipley,