He had been ill for some weeks previous to my visit, and when he walked out with me, on the second day, it was the first time since the commencement of his illness that his field-hands had seen him.
The first negroes we met were half a dozen women, who were going up to the nursery to suckle their children—the overseer’s bell having been just rung (at eleven o’clock), to call them in from work for that purpose. Mr. R. said that he allowed them two hours to be with their children while nursing at noon, and to leave work an hour earlier at night than the other field-hands. The women all stopped as we met them, and asked, with much animation:
“Oh, master! how is ou?”
“Well, I’m getting up. How are you, girls?”
“Oh, we’s well, sir.”
“The children all well?”
“Yes, master, all but Sukey’s, sir.”
“Sukey’s? What, isn’t that well yet?”
“No, master.”
“But it’s getting well, is it not?”