Upon the white man, caused her quick release.

He turned, and in the face struck Karagwe.

The patient slave did not return the blow,

But the next day they tied him to a post,

And fifty stripes his naked shoulders flayed.

Stricken in mind at being deeply wronged,

Filled with a noble scorn, that men most learned

Would so degrade a brother race of men,

He wept at heart; no groan fled through his lips.

Yet in a few days he was forced to go

And work beneath the intolerable sun,

Picking the cotton-boll, and bearing it

[Pg 35]

In a rude basket, on his wounded back,

Up a steep hill-side to the cotton gin.

VI.

Ruth, as she walked the pebbled garden lanes,

Or daily in her hundred household cares,

Thought of the dark face and noble heart

Of Karagwe, and truly pitied him.

 Prev. P 43/151 next