Pompey was of low stature, round face, and, like most of his race, had a set of teeth, which, for whiteness and beauty, could not be surpassed; his eyes were large, lips thick, and hair short and woolly. Pompey had been with Jennings so long, and had seen so much of buying and selling of his fellow-creatures, that he appeared perfectly indifferent to the heart-rending scenes which daily occurred in his presence. Such is the force of habit:—
"Vice is a monster of such frightful mien,
That to be hated, needs but to be seen;
But seen too oft, familiar with Its face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace."
It was on the second day of the steamer's voyage, that Pompey selected five of the oldest slaves, took them into a room by themselves, and commenced preparing them for the market.
"Now," said he, addressing himself to the company, "I is de chap dat is to get you ready for de Orleans market, so dat you will bring marser a good price. How old is you?" addressing himself to a man not less than forty.
"If I live to see next sweet-potato-digging time, I shall be either forty or forty-five, I don't know which."
"Dat may be," replied Pompey; "but now you is only thirty years old,—dat's what marser says you is to be."
"I know I is more den dat," responded the man.
"I can't help nuffin' about dat," returned Pompey; "but when you get into de market and any one ax you how old you is, and you tell um you is forty or forty-five, marser will tie you up and cut you all to pieces. But if you tell urn dat you is only thirty, den he won't. Now remember dat you is thirty years old and no more."
"Well den, I guess I will only be thirty when dey ax me."
"What's your name?" said Pompey, addressing himself to another.