Beadle's Dime Novels No. 33: Maum Guinea and Her Plantation Children — page 101: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

INSURRECTION. 93 ‘whipping, and de salt brine on his bleeding back—w’en I heard de stage-coach rumble away over de-hill wid my little Sam—w’en Dan’l was took away—w’en I had been flogged myself—I tought of all our wrongs and hardships, and I couldn't blame my husband—I knew he b'lieved he was doin’ de Lord’s work—but I wished dey had spared dear Katie. “Dar was an awfal time after dat,” continued the narrator, her voice rising, but still in a whisper, high and sharp. “Oh. dar was an awful time All Mr. Travis’ family was mur dered too; and de’re niggers joined ours, and dey rode on to de next plantation; dar dey killed all de white people, and got more help, and dey went ’round about to ebery house, all night, all day, all next night, all next day—for eight-and- forty hours de work went on. At ebery place de slaves rose up, and aided dem; they murdered de’re own masters and missuses, and be berry chil’ren dey played wid. Dey b'lieved Nat Turner was a prophet, and de time of der deliverance was at hand. Yes, dey b'lieved it. Dey obeyed him, w’at he told ’em. All de dark spots slaves hhide ‘way in de’re ‘hearts, and say nuthin’, come to light den—all de fires breale tru’ de ashes den, and blaze up turrible. Do you tink it was right, my frien’s ?” “Yes,” said Hyperion. “No,” said Rose. “Woll, de most of ’em tought it was right, w’edder it were, or not. Liberty is sweet, even to poor brack slave— and in Virginny dar’s plenty of white blood mixed wid ours, you all know. Dey murdered der own fadders, der own brudders and sisters, no doubt, many times; but w’at were dese, more dan oders, ’cept to make ’em feel more spiteful. “We waited in fear and trembling; praying and crying, we waited. Oh, dose Wére awful days!—awful for de poor white women and chil’ren, dat had fled for de’re lives, w’en ecomiclooks.conn