We'll put it under the tree." Nope," he said flatly. "It's a private sort of thing. I should probably come over and install everything during the day ...ometime." Install?" I was totally confused."It's a multi-camera video system, Bill. If I put that under your tree, your kid would start to wonder ... Or maybe I should," he chuckled, "but I'd miss getting to hear the explanation on Christmas morning." Ah," I said as the light bulb went off over my head. "So you want better video than you've. It is a low sound, almost barely above a whisper to his ears, but nonetheless it is there. John Willington is astonished. He steps onto his balcony overlooking the vast fields of his plantation and sees them. They are walking slowly to the cotton fields with their hoes and plows – making noise. John listens and is outraged to hear their voices hum and sing such soulful songs. Why are they doing that? His slaves sing low but sweet. It mystifies him how they could sing at this hour. The slaves. More

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