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Authors: Ann Rinaldi
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they don't, you be like Robin all your life, a slave struttin' 'round in fancy clothes."
A cloud seemed to darken the sun of a sudden. I shivered. "Does Robin still work for Dr. Clark?" I asked.
"Uh-huh. Dr. Clark still owns the apothecary shoppe. It be bad, that apothecary shoppe. Dark. Damp. He mixes things. They smell. Like eye of cat and tail of dog. But people go there and he knows what to give 'em when they be sick."
"Do you think he'll ever free Robin?"
"He'd. sooner drink his own remedies," Prince said.
I pondered all this as we waited for Nathaniel.
Masters can make their slaves free. All they have to do is write a paper.
I pondered it in silence until Nathaniel came back. He returned jubilant. "I'm in luck. The
Liberty
just dropped anchor this morning. I had some flip with young John and he's agreed to sell me some merchandise. And to use his influence to get me good space to advertise in the
Post.
"
I just stared at him. I felt betrayed. Why had he never told me it would do no good to read if I would never be free?
Chapter Eleven
"You want to be what?" Nathaniel scowled fiercely.
We were in his room the very next day. He was overseeing my reading.
"Free." I had displeased him. He was angry. He was fearful when angry, but his anger had never yet been directed at me.
"Wherever did you get such a notion?" Then he laughed. And it was worse than anger. "Free! Of all the flapdoodle! Do you know the
meaning
of the word?"
"Yes."
"Then tell me."
"It means that when you buy me my lovely new dresses, I'll be someone. And not just poor little Phillis the slave forever. Because fine feathers don't make fine birds."
He was peering at me intently. "Go on."
"Only way to be anybody is to be free. Even if I learn to read, there's no profit in it, unless I'm free."
"You can read now. Is there no profit in it?"
I hung my head. "Yes, sir, there is."
"Who told you this nonsense?"
I should not have said, but I did. "Prince."
"Well, if that's the kind of folderol that rascal is filling your head with, then I say you are no longer to speak to Prince!"
Fear gripped me. "But he's my friend."
"No friend counsels a little girl to such sentiments. Tell me, Phillis, what you would do with this freedom if my parents were to give it to you? Where would you live? For then you would be free to leave here."
"I don't want to leave." My voice shook.
"Ah, but you would have to. Did Prince tell you that?"
"No, sir."
"Did he advise you of how you would earn your living? How you would buy your bread? Where you would sleep at night?"
I was near tears. "No, sir."
"Well, that is what being free is all about, Phillis." He knelt in front of me and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Being free means you must take responsibility for yourself. And ofttimes for others. Are you ready to do that?"
Tears streamed down my face. "No, sir."
"Do you see me running about these days, doing everything I can to plan my future? I'm free, Phillis. I want to be a merchant. I'm well placed, schooled—and yet, I'm near daft trying to get out from under the yoke of my parents. How do you think
you
would fare?"
I did not answer.
"Phillis"—his voice grew even more gentle—"my parents will be panic stricken. Is this what my teaching you to read has wrought?"
I shook my head no.
"You have so much to learn, Phillis. And you have such a fine mind. I thought this was an agreeable arrangement. But if you persist in this nonsense about being free, I shall have to stop teaching you to read. Do you want that?"
I told him no, I didn't.
"Then let me hear no more of the matter," he said.
It was May, and Mrs. Wheatley's birthday. I was in the kitchen. Aunt Cumsee was helping me ice the golden cake.
"Come, Phillis," Nathaniel said. He stood in the doorway, holding out his hand. "It's time."
I was in a frenzy of excitement. Aunt Cumsee took off my apron and kissed me. "Do me proud," she said.
"Give me the cake, please."
She handed it to me and I carried
A cloud seemed to darken the sun of a sudden. I shivered. "Does Robin still work for Dr. Clark?" I asked.
"Uh-huh. Dr. Clark still owns the apothecary shoppe. It be bad, that apothecary shoppe. Dark. Damp. He mixes things. They smell. Like eye of cat and tail of dog. But people go there and he knows what to give 'em when they be sick."
"Do you think he'll ever free Robin?"
"He'd. sooner drink his own remedies," Prince said.
I pondered all this as we waited for Nathaniel.
Masters can make their slaves free. All they have to do is write a paper.
I pondered it in silence until Nathaniel came back. He returned jubilant. "I'm in luck. The
Liberty
just dropped anchor this morning. I had some flip with young John and he's agreed to sell me some merchandise. And to use his influence to get me good space to advertise in the
Post.
"
I just stared at him. I felt betrayed. Why had he never told me it would do no good to read if I would never be free?
Chapter Eleven
"You want to be what?" Nathaniel scowled fiercely.
We were in his room the very next day. He was overseeing my reading.
"Free." I had displeased him. He was angry. He was fearful when angry, but his anger had never yet been directed at me.
"Wherever did you get such a notion?" Then he laughed. And it was worse than anger. "Free! Of all the flapdoodle! Do you know the
meaning
of the word?"
"Yes."
"Then tell me."
"It means that when you buy me my lovely new dresses, I'll be someone. And not just poor little Phillis the slave forever. Because fine feathers don't make fine birds."
He was peering at me intently. "Go on."
"Only way to be anybody is to be free. Even if I learn to read, there's no profit in it, unless I'm free."
"You can read now. Is there no profit in it?"
I hung my head. "Yes, sir, there is."
"Who told you this nonsense?"
I should not have said, but I did. "Prince."
"Well, if that's the kind of folderol that rascal is filling your head with, then I say you are no longer to speak to Prince!"
Fear gripped me. "But he's my friend."
"No friend counsels a little girl to such sentiments. Tell me, Phillis, what you would do with this freedom if my parents were to give it to you? Where would you live? For then you would be free to leave here."
"I don't want to leave." My voice shook.
"Ah, but you would have to. Did Prince tell you that?"
"No, sir."
"Did he advise you of how you would earn your living? How you would buy your bread? Where you would sleep at night?"
I was near tears. "No, sir."
"Well, that is what being free is all about, Phillis." He knelt in front of me and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Being free means you must take responsibility for yourself. And ofttimes for others. Are you ready to do that?"
Tears streamed down my face. "No, sir."
"Do you see me running about these days, doing everything I can to plan my future? I'm free, Phillis. I want to be a merchant. I'm well placed, schooled—and yet, I'm near daft trying to get out from under the yoke of my parents. How do you think
you
would fare?"
I did not answer.
"Phillis"—his voice grew even more gentle—"my parents will be panic stricken. Is this what my teaching you to read has wrought?"
I shook my head no.
"You have so much to learn, Phillis. And you have such a fine mind. I thought this was an agreeable arrangement. But if you persist in this nonsense about being free, I shall have to stop teaching you to read. Do you want that?"
I told him no, I didn't.
"Then let me hear no more of the matter," he said.
It was May, and Mrs. Wheatley's birthday. I was in the kitchen. Aunt Cumsee was helping me ice the golden cake.
"Come, Phillis," Nathaniel said. He stood in the doorway, holding out his hand. "It's time."
I was in a frenzy of excitement. Aunt Cumsee took off my apron and kissed me. "Do me proud," she said.
"Give me the cake, please."
She handed it to me and I carried
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