Bass felt of me， turned me round， and made a thorough examination， Epps all the while dwelling onmy good points. But his visitor seemed to take but littleinterest finally in the subject， and consequently it wasdropped. Bass soon departed， giving me another sly lookof recognition and significance， as he trotted out of theyard.
When he was gone I obtained a pass， and started forTanner’s—not Peter Tanner’s， of whom mention haspreviously been made， but a relative of his. I playedduring the day and most of the night， spending the nextday， Sunday， in my cabin. Monday I crossed the bayou toDouglas Marshall’s， all Epps’ slaves accompanying me，and on Tuesday went to the old Norwood place， which isthe third plantation above Marshall’s， on the same side ofthe water.
This estate is now owned by Miss Mary McCoy， a lovely girl， some twenty years of age. She is the beautyand the glory of Bayou Boeef. She owns about a hundredworking hands， besides a great many house servants，yard boys， and young children. Her brother-in-law， whoresides on the adjoining estate， is her general agent. Sheis beloved by all her slaves， and good reason indeed havethey to be thankful that they have fallen into such gentlehands. Nowhere on the bayou are there such feasts， suchmerrymaking， as at young Madam McCoy’s. Thither，more than to any other place， do the old and the young formiles around love to repair in the time of the Christmasholiday； for nowhere else can they find such deliciousrepasts； nowhere else can they hear a voice speaking tothem so pleasantly. No one is so well beloved—no onefills so large a space in the hearts of a thousand slaves，as young Madam McCoy， the orphan mistress of the oldNorwood estate.
On my arrival at her place， I found two or threehundred had assembled. The table was prepared in along building， which she had erected expressly for herslaves to dance in. It was covered with every varietyof food the country afforded， and was pronounced bygeneral acclamation to be the rarest of dinners. Roastturkey， pig， chicken， duck， and all kinds of meat， baked，boiled， and broiled， formed a line the whole length of theextended table， while the vacant spaces were filled withtarts， jellies， and frosted cake， and pastry of many kinds.
The young mistress walked around the table， smiling and saying a kind word to each one， and seemed to enjoy thescene exceedingly.
When the dinner was over the tables were removed tomake room for the dancers. I tuned my violin and struckup a lively air； while some joined in a nimble reel， otherspatted and sang their simple but melodious songs， fillingthe great room with music mingled with the sound ofhuman voices and the clatter of many feet.
In the evening the mistress returned， and stood in thedoor a long time， looking at us. She was magnificentlyarrayed. Her dark hair and eyes contrasted strongly withher clear and delicate complexion. Her form was slenderbut commanding， and her movement was a combinationof unaffected dignity and grace. As she stood there， cladin her rich apparel， her face animated with pleasure， Ithought I had never looked upon a human being half sobeautiful. I dwell with delight upon the deion of thisfair and gentle lady， not only because she inspired mewith emotions of gratitude and admiration， but becauseI would have the reader understand that all slaveownerson Bayou Boeuf are not like Epps， or Tibeats， orJim Burns. Occasionally can be found， rarely it may be，indeed， a good man like William Ford， or an angel ofkindness like young Mistress McCoy.
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