This was Mr. Scroggs, the agent of a
rice-plantation, who had come on, bringing an order for a new relay of
negroes to supply the deficit occasioned by fever, dysentery, and other
causes, in their last year's stock.
"The fact is," said Simeon, "this last ship-load wasn't as good a one as
usual; we lost more than a third of it, so we can't afford to put them a
penny lower."
"Ay," said the other,--"but then there are so many women!"
"Well," said Simeon, "women a'n't so strong, perhaps, to start
with,--but then they stan' it out, perhaps, in the long run, better.
They're more patient;--some of these men, the Mandingoes, particularly,
are pretty troublesome to manage. We lost a splendid fellow, coming
over, on this very voyage. Let 'em on deck for air, and this fellow
managed to get himself loose and fought like a dragon. He settled one
of our men with his fist, and another with a marlinespike that he
caught,--and, in fact, they had to shoot him down. You'll have his wife;
there's his son, too,--fine fellow, fifteen year old by his teeth.
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