The people were at work in the mill and boiling-house, and as we passed, bowed and bade us "good mornin', massa," with the utmost respect and cheerfulness.

A white overseer was regulating the work, but wanted the insignia of slaveholding authority, which he had borne for many years, the _whip_.
As we came out, we saw in a neighboring field a gang of seventy apprentices, of both sexes, engaged in cutting up the cane, while others were throwing it into carts to be carried to the mill.

They were all as quietly and industriously at work as any body of our own farmers or mechanics.

As we were looking at them, Mr.C., the planter, remarked, "those people give me more work than when slaves.

This estate was never under so good cultivation as at the present time." He took us to the building used as the mechanics' shop.