She wouldn't hear to me, when I telled her I hadn't milk.

She said she knowed I could feed it on what other folks eat; and the child kinder pined, and cried, and cried, and cried, day and night, and got all gone to skin and bones, and Missis got sot agin it and she said 't wan't nothin' but crossness.

She wished it was dead, she said; and she wouldn't let me have it o' nights, cause, she said, it kept me awake, and made me good for nothing.

She made me sleep in her room; and I had to put it away off in a little kind o' garret, and thar it cried itself to death, one night.

It did; and I tuck to drinkin', to keep its crying out of my ears! I did,--and I will drink! I will, if I do go to torment for it! Mas'r says I shall go to torment, and I tell him I've got thar now!" "O, ye poor crittur!" said Tom, "han't nobody never telled ye how the Lord Jesus loved ye, and died for ye?
Han't they telled ye that he'll help ye, and ye can go to heaven, and have rest, at last ?" "I looks like gwine to heaven," said the woman; "an't thar where white folks is gwine?
S'pose they'd have me thar?
I'd rather go to torment, and get away from Mas'r and Missis.