She is
fourteen, the property of an old Miss D. We noticed her yesterday
standing about in the passage, and asked her if she belonged to the
hotel, and she said no, that she belonged to Miss D. We said, quite
seriously, as we now always do to blacks and whites of the lower orders,
"Where were you raised?" The creature answered us quietly, "In
Virginny." She is a full, well grown girl, with a large bushy crop of
wool on her head; a pleasant, large, round intelligent face, that is
almost pretty. The young niggers have very little of the real negro cast
of countenance, and the little boys and girls about the streets are
really pretty, and almost loveable looking; while the elders, especially
the females, are hideous to behold, and are only to be tolerated, in
point of looks, when they wear coloured turbans. When I see one adorned
in a bonnet at the back of her head, with a profusion, inside, of the
brightest artificial flowers, a bright vulgar shawl and dress, and an
enormous hoop, with very narrow petticoats, I always wish to rush home,
light a large bonfire, and throw into the flames every article of
ornamental dress that I possess.
But to return to dear Topsy. We asked her if she were a slave, feeling
very backward to put so trying a question to her; but she answered with
the utmost simplicity, that she was, just as if we had asked her if she
were from France or Germany.
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