“Master, you wan’t raise in dis country, was ’ou?”
“No; I came from the North.”
“I tort so, sar; I knew ’ou wan’t one of dis country people; ’peared like ’ou was one o’ my country people, way ’ou talks; and I loves dem kine of people. Won’t you take some whisky, sar? Heah, you boy! bring dat jug of whisky dah, out o’ my waggon; in dah,—in dat box under dem foddar.”
“No, don’t trouble yourself, I am very much obliged to you; but I don’t like to drink whisky.”
“Like to have you drink some, master, if you’d like it. You’s right welcome to it. ’Pears like I knew you was one of my country people. Ever been in Greensboro,’ master? dat’s in Guilford.”
“No, I never was there. I came from New York, further North than your country.”
“New York, did ’ou, master? I heerd New York was what dey calls a Free State; all de niggars free dah.”
“Yes, that is so.”
“Not no slaves at all; well, I expec dat’s a good ting, for all de niggars to be free. Greensboro’ is a right comely town; tain’t like dese heah Souf Car’lina towns.”
“I have heard it spoken of as a beautiful town, and there are some fine people there.”