Twelve Years a Slave
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"Twelve Years A Slave" is the story of Solomon Northup, an African American who was born free in New York in the early 1800s. In 1841, Solomon Northup was captured and forced into slavery for a period of 12 years. "Twelve Years A Slave" is a captivating narrative of the life of freedom and slavery experienced by one African American man prior to the American Civil War. The book is detailed in its account of life on a cotton and sugar plantation and the daily routine of slave life during the first part of the 19th century.
Basic painting philosophy and methodology of a great teacher, as expounded in his famous classes and workshops on Cape Cod. 7 illustrations in color on covers. 80pp. 5 × 8½. 0-486-43728-0 LIGHT AND SHADE: A Classic Approach to Three-Dimensional Drawing, Mrs. Mary P. Merrifield. Handy reference clearly demonstrates principles of light and shade by revealing effects of common daylight, sunshine, and candle or artificial light on geometrical solids. 13 plates. 64pp. 5 × 8½. 0-486-44143-1
wrongs I have suffered, and of those who inflicted them, with upraised eyes. But I have no desire to speak of him or any other one otherwise than truthfully. Yet to speak truthfully of Edwin Epps would be to say—he is a man in whose heart the quality of kindness or of justice is not found. A rough, rude energy, united with an uncultivated mind and an avaricious spirit, are his prominent characteristics. He is known as a “nigger breaker,” distinguished for his faculty of subduing the spirit of the
than for the purpose of expressing any distinct idea. The patting is performed by striking the hands on the knees, then striking the hands together, then striking the right shoulder with one hand, the left with the other—all the while keeping time with the feet, and singing, perhaps, this song : “Harper’s creek and roarin’ ribber, Thar, my dear, we’ll live forebber; Den we’ll go to de Ingin nation, All I want in dis creation, Is pretty little wife and big plantation. Chorus. Up dat oak and
habit when half-intoxicated. Aware of his lewd intentions, Patsey began to cry. I whispered her not to look up, and to continue at her work, as if she had not observed him. Suspecting the truth of the matter, however, he soon staggered up to me in a great rage. “What did you say to Pats?” he demanded, with an oath. I made him some evasive answer, which only had the effect of increasing his violence. “How long have you owned this plantation, say, you d——d nigger?” he inquired, with a malicious
directions. The search was fruitless. Nothing whatever was elicited, going to show what had become of the missing man. The dogs were led to the swamp, but were unable to strike his trail. They would circle away through the forest, their noses to the ground, but invariably returned in a short time to the spot from whence they started. Wiley had escaped, and so secretly and cautiously as to elude and baffle all pursuit. Days and even weeks passed away, and nothing could be heard of him. Epps did