Mary S. Peake

"Do you own this place?"

"Yes."

"Well, deliver up all your horses."

Sam Simpson, the colored foreman, says, "Boys, bring up the horses."

"Oh, sir, spare an old man!"

"Hurry out those horses!"

"Oh, Sam, stand by me! Oh, dear, I shall die! Don't leave me! Don't leave me!"

Poor old man! His ill-gotten riches are taking wings; the day of retribution has come upon him, and, in spite of a sense of its justice, we can not withhold our pity.

The colored people were soon set to work in constructing the battery in Hampton, under the superintendence of Mr. Pierce, of the Massachusetts regiment, since then superintendent of the Port Royal cotton culture. They worked with a will, so that he was obliged to suspend labor during the heat of the day, lest they should over-exert themselves. After a mont