idle fit, or would prevent George from helping his brother in his lesson.
Harry was of a strong military turn, drilled the little negroes on the
estate and caned them like a corporal, having many good boxing-matches
with them, and never bearing malice if he was worsted;--whereas George
was sparing of blows and gentle with all about him. As the custom in all
families was, each of the boys had a special little servant assigned him;
and it was a known fact that George, finding his little wretch of a
blackamoor asleep on his master's bed, sat down beside it and brushed the
flies off the child with a feather fan, to the horror of old Gumbo, the
child's father, who found his young master so engaged, and to the
indignation of Madam Esmond, who ordered the young negro off to the
proper officer for a whipping. In vain George implored and entreated--
burst into passionate tears, and besought a remission of the sentence.
His mother was inflexible regarding the young rebel's punishment, and the
little negro went off beseeching his young master not to cry.

A fierce quarrel between mother and son ensued out of this event. Her son
would not be pacified. He said the punishment was a shame--a shame; that
he was the master of the boy, and no one--no, not his mother,--had a
right to touch him; that she might order him to be corrected, and that he
would suffer the punishment, as he and Harry often had, but no one should
lay a hand on his boy. Trembling with passionate rebellion against what
he conceived the injustice of procedure, he vowed--actually shrieking out
an oath, which shocked his fond mother and governor, who never before
heard such language from the usually gentle child--that on the day he
came of age he would set young Gumbo free--went to visit the child in the
slaves' quarters, and gave him one of his own toys.

The young black martyr was an impudent, lazy, saucy little personage, who
would be none the worse for a whipping, as the Colonel no doubt thought;