called Cherrystone traded off my damaged flour for a cargo of pears, with which I sailed for New York.  I proceeded safely as far as Barnegat, when I encountered a north-east storm, which drove me back into the Delaware, obliging me to seek refuge in the same Maurice river from which I had commenced my sea-faring life in the wood business.  But by this time the pears were spoiled, and I was obliged to throw them overboard.  At Cherrystone I had met the owner of a pilot-boat, who had seemed disposed to trade with me for my vessel; and I now returned to that place, and completed the trade; after which I loaded the pilot-boat with oysters and terrapins, and sailed for Philadelphia.  This boat was an excellent sailer, but too sharp, and not of burden enough for my business; and I soon exchanged her for half a little sloop, in which I carried a load of water-melons to Baltimore.

By this time I was pretty well sick of the water; and, having hired out the sloop, I set up a shop, at Philadelphia, for the purchase and sale of junk, old iron, &c. &c.  But, after continuing in this business for about two years,—­my health being bad, and the doctor having advised me to try the water again,—­I bought half of another sloop, and engaged in trading up and down Chesapeake Bay.  Returning home, towards the close of the season, with the proceeds of the summer’s business, I encountered, in the upper part of Chesapeake Bay, a terrible snow-storm which proved fatal to many vessels then in the bay.  In attempting to make a harbor, the vessel struck the ground, and knocked off her rudder; and, in order to get her off, we were obliged to throw over the deck-load.  We drifted about all day, it still blowing and snowing, and at night let go both anchors.  So we lay for a night and a day; but, having neither boat, rudder nor provisions, I was finally obliged to slip the anchors and run ashore.  I sold my half of her, as she lay, for ninety dollars, which was all that remained to me of my investment and my summer’s work.

Not having the means to purchase a boat, my health also continuing quite infirm, the next summer I hired one, and continued the same trade up and down the bay which I had followed the previous summer.

My trading up and down the bay, in the way which I have described, of course brought me a good deal into contact with the slave population.  No sooner, indeed, does a vessel, known to be from the north, anchor in any of these waters—­and the slaves are pretty adroit in ascertaining from what state a vessel comes—­than she is boarded, if she remains any length of time, and especially over night, by more or less of them, in hopes of obtaining a passage in her to a land of freedom.  During my earlier voyagings, several years before, in Chesapeake Bay, I had turned a deaf ear to all these requests.  At that time, according to an idea still common enough, I had regarded the negroes as only fit to be slaves, and had not been inclined to pay much attention to