occasionally taking the top from the large wash-boiler, which we learned was filled with boiling water, soap, and ashes.
In case of an attack, this boiler was to be the "King of Pain."
Guided by a friend who had furnished us a disguise, the writer entered the "hot room," and took a view of its surroundings. As we saw the perspiration streaming down the faces of these women, we ventured a few questions.
"Do you expect an attack?" we asked.
"Dunno, honey; but we's ready ef dey comes," was the reply from the aunty near the stove.
"Were you over in slavery?" we continued.
"Yes; ain't bin from dar but little while."
"What State?"
"Bred and born in ole Virginny, down on de Pertomuc."
"Have you any of your relations in Virginia now?"
"Yes; got six chilens down dar somewhar, an' two husbuns—all sole to de speclaturs afore I run away."
"Did you come off alone?"
"No; my las ole man bring me 'way."
"You don't mean to be taken back by the slave-catchers, in peace?"
"No; I'll die fuss."
"How will you manage if they attempt to come into this room?"
"We'll all fling hot water on 'em, an' scall dar very harts out."
"Can you all throw water without injuring each other?"
"O yes, honey; we's bin practicin' all day." And
