While the gentleman—my master—was thus asking me of my pains, and betraying an interest in my welfare that softened my heart towards him, there came into the hovel a young lady of a very sweet countenance, followed by two or three younger girls and a little boy, all of whom seemed glad to see me, the little boy in particular, shaking me by the hand, while his youthful sisters (for all were my master's children) began to drag from a basket and display before my eyes the legs of a roasted chicken, a little tart, a jelly, and divers other dainty viands, which they had brought with them, as they said, "for poor sick Tom," and insisted upon seeing him eat on the spot. As for the young lady, the eldest sister, she smiled on them and on me (for I was not backward to accept and dispose of the savoury gifts), but told me I must not be imprudent, nor eat too much, and I would soon be well. "What!" thought I, "does a slave ever eat too much?"
It is astonishing what a revolution was effected in my feelings by the gentle deportment of my master, and the kindly act of his children. I looked upon them and myself with entirely new eyes; I felt a sort of affection for them steal through my spirit, and I wondered why I had ever thought of them with fear. I took a particular liking to the little boy, who, by-the-by, was a namesake of mine, he being Massa Tommy, and I plain Tom, and I had an unaccountable longing come over me to take him on my back and go galloping on all-fours over the grass at the door. I had no more thoughts of running away to avoid the dreadful lash, and the shame of bonds; and, my master and his children presently leaving the hovel, having first charged me to keep myself quiet and easy, I fell sound asleep, and dreamed I lay a whole day on my back on a clay-bank, eating johnny-cake and fried bacon.
[CHAPTER III.]
AN OLD WOMAN'S CURE FOR A DISEASE EXTREMELY PREVALENT BOTH IN THE COLOURED AND UNCOLOURED CREATION.
The next day I was visited again by my master, and by other members of his family whom I had not seen before, and of whom I shall say nothing now, having occasion to mention them hereafter. The children brought me "goodies" as before, and little Tommy told me to "make haste and get well, for there were none of the other 'boys'"—meaning negroes—"who knew how to gallop the cock-horse half so well as I." In short, I was treated like a human being, and fed like a king, and began to grow wondrous content with my situation. The doctor also came, and having fingered about my neck for a while, declared my case to be the most marvellous one ever known, and concluded by telling me I was well enough to get up, and that I might do so whenever I chose.
Now this was a matter of which I was as well satisfied as he could be, being quite certain I never was better in my life; but I felt amazing delight in lolling a-bed, doing nothing except feeding on the good things with which my master's children so liberally supplied me; and, I believe; had they left the matter to be decided by my own will, I should have been lying on that bed, luxuriating in happy laziness, to this day. It is certain I fabricated falsehoods without number, for the mere purpose of keeping my bed; for whenever my master, who came to inquire about me at least once a day, ventured to hint I was well enough to get up if I would but choose to think so, I felt myself unaccountably impelled to declare, with sighs and groans, that I could scarce move a limb, and that I suffered endless pangs; all which was false, for I was strong as a horse, and without any pain whatever.
"Well, well," my venerable master used to say, "I know you are cheating me, you rascal. But that's the way with you all. A negro will be a negro; and, sure, I have the laziest set of scoundrels on my estate that ever ate up a good-natured master."
Unhappily, for so I then thought it, old aunt Phoebe, who had been appointed to nurse me, and who was very conscientious about her master's interest in all cases where her own was not involved, was by no means so easily imposed upon as the old gentleman; and on the seventh day after I opened my eyes, she dispelled a pleasing revery in which I was indulging, by bidding me arise and begone. I began to plead my pains: "Can't play 'possum with me!" said she; "good-for-nothin' nigga, not worth you cawn!" and, not deigning to employ any other argument, she took a broomstick to me, and fairly beat me out of the hovel. I thought it was very odd I should get my first beating of a fellow-slave, and I was somewhat incensed at the old woman for her cruelty; but by-and-by, when I had taken a seat in the sunshine, snuffed the fresh autumn air, and looked about me a little, I fell into a better humour with her, and—if that were possible—with myself.