'Only, master Robert hed to be toted off to Newbern dat night, git bail or sleep in de jail, and de next mornin', af'er de nig hed a hed ten yars' use ob heseff fur nuffin, master Robert hed to do what he'd a said, an' his fader afore him hed said, dey neber would do—dat is, take two fifty fur de oder half ob Cale! Ha! ha! De next time I gwoes to Newbern I hunt Cale up, an' I tell him he must study fur de law, shore; an' dat ef he done it, I know'd master Robert would pay de 'spences, out ob lub to de country.'
The negroes who were attending the still had dropped their work to listen to Joe's story, and at its close guffawed in a chorus that made the woods ring. Hearing it, Joe sprang to his feet, shouting out: 'Yere—'bout you' wuck dar; leff me kotch you eavesdroppin' on gemmen agin, an' I'll gib you what I gabe Cale. 'Bout you' wuck, I say.' They turned nimbly to their tasks, and Joe resumed his seat.
'I see the moral of that story, Preston,' I said, when the negro had concluded.
'What is it?'
'That a darky may be as smart as a white man. Cale outwitted you.'
'Well, he did,' he replied, laughing; 'but that isn't the moral: it is that flogging never accomplishes its object.'
'I'm not so sure of that. Joe had brought Cale to terms, 'made a decent nigger on him,' when you, unluckily, interfered.'
'It ain't so much de floggin' on 'em, Mr. Kirke,' said Joe, 'as dar knowin' dat you will do it ef dey desarve it. Dar ain't a darky on de plantation dat don't know master Robert an' de good missus 'ould rader be flogged demselves dan flog dem; an' dat wucks bad, Mr. Kirke, sorry bad;' and the negro shook his head with a grave, thoughtful air.
'Tell me, Preston,' I said, after a slight pause, 'how is it that your neighbor Dawsey, with only seventy-five negroes, sends us more produce than you do with a hundred and fifty?'
'Simply because he treats his hands like brutes, while I treat mine like men.'