“’Bout ten days ago I ‘uz sayin’ to myself dat I couldn’t las’ many mo’ weeks I ’uz so wore out wid de awful work en de lashin’s, en so downhearted en misable.  En I didn’t care no mo’, nuther—­life warn’t wuth noth’n’ to me, if I got to go on like dat.  Well, when a body is in a frame o’ mine like dat, what do a body care what a body do?  Dey was a little sickly nigger wench ’bout ten year ole dat ’uz good to me, en hadn’t no mammy, po’ thing, en I loved her en she loved me; en she come out whah I ‘uz workin’ en she had a roasted tater, en tried to slip it to me—­robbin’ herself, you see, ’ca’se she knowed de overseer didn’t give me enough to eat—­en he ketched her at it, en giver her a lick acrost de back wid his stick, which ‘uz as thick as a broom handle, en she drop’ screamin’ on de groun’, en squirmin’ en wallerin’ aroun’ in de dust like a spider dat’s got crippled.  I couldn’t stan’ it.  All de hellfire dat ‘uz ever in my heart flame’ up, en I snatch de stick outen his han’ en laid him flat.  He laid dah moanin’ en cussin’, en all out of his head, you know, en de niggers ‘uz plumb sk’yred to death.  Dey gathered roun’ him to he’p him, en I jumped on his hoss en took out for de river as tight as I could go.  I knowed what dey would do wid me.  Soon as he got well he would start in en work me to death if marster let him; en if dey didn’t do dat, they’d sell me furder down de river, en dat’s de same thing, so I ‘lowed to drown myself en git out o’ my troubles.  It ’uz gitt’n’ towards dark.  I ’uz at de river in two minutes.  Den I see a canoe, en I says dey ain’t no use to drown myself tell I got to; so I ties de hoss in de edge o’ de timber en shove out down de river, keepin’ in under de shelter o’ de bluff bank en prayin’ for de dark to shet down quick.  I had a pow’ful good start, ’ca’se de big house ’uz three mile back f’om de river en on’y de work mules to ride dah on, en on’y niggers ride ’em, en DEY warn’t gwine to hurry—­dey’d gimme all de chance dey could.  Befo’ a body could go to de house en back it would be long pas’ dark, en dey couldn’t track de hoss en fine out which way I went tell mawnin’, en de niggers would tell ’em all de lies dey could ’bout it.

“Well, de dark come, en I went on a-spinnin’ down de river.  I paddled mo’n two hours, den I warn’t worried no mo’, so I quit paddlin’ en floated down de current, considerin’ what I ’uz gwine to do if I didn’t have to drown myself.  I made up some plans, en floated along, turnin’ ’em over in my mine.  Well, when it ‘uz a little pas’ midnight, as I reckoned, en I had come fifteen or twenty mile, I see de lights o’ a steamboat layin’ at de bank, whah dey warn’t no town en no woodyard, en putty soon I ketched de shape o’ de chimbly tops ag’in’ de stars, en den good gracious me, I ‘most jumped out o’ my skin for joy!  It ‘uz de GRAN’ MOGUL—­I ’uz chambermaid on her for eight seasons in de Cincinnati en Orleans trade.  I slid ‘long pas’—­don’t see nobody stirrin’ nowhah—­hear ‘em