I was never so beaten and bruised that I could not turn from one side to the other; I never had my heel-strings cut to prevent my running away; I was never chained to a log and forced to drag it about, while I toiled in the fields from morning till night; I was never branded with hot iron, or torn by bloodhounds.  On the contrary, I had always been kindly treated, and tenderly cared for, until I came into the hands of Dr. Flint.  I had never wished for freedom till then.  But though my life in slavery was comparatively devoid of hardships, God pity the woman who is compelled to lead such a life!

My food was passed up to me through the trap-door my uncle had contrived; and my grandmother, my uncle Phillip, and aunt Nancy would seize such opportunities as they could, to mount up there and chat with me at the opening.  But of course this was not safe in the daytime.  It must all be done in darkness.  It was impossible for me to move in an erect position, but I crawled about my den for exercise.  One day I hit my head against something, and found it was a gimlet.  My uncle had left it sticking there when he made the trap-door.  I was as rejoiced as Robinson Crusoe could have been at finding such a treasure.  It put a lucky thought into my head.  I said to myself, “Now I will have some light.  Now I will see my children.”  I did not dare to begin my work during the daytime, for fear of attracting attention.  But I groped round; and having found the side next the street, where I could frequently see my children, I stuck the gimlet in and waited for evening.  I bored three rows of holes, one above another; then I bored out the interstices between.  I thus succeeded in making one hole about an inch long and an inch broad.  I sat by it till late into the night, to enjoy the little whiff of air that floated in.  In the morning I watched for my children.  The first person I saw in the street was Dr. Flint.  I had a shuddering, superstitious feeling that it was a bad omen.  Several familiar faces passed by.  At last I heard the merry laugh of children, and presently two sweet little faces were looking up at me, as though they knew I was there, and were conscious of the joy they imparted.  How I longed to tell them I was there!

My condition was now a little improved.  But for weeks I was tormented by hundreds of little red insects, fine as a needle’s point, that pierced through my skin, and produced an intolerable burning.  The good grandmother gave me herb teas and cooling medicines, and finally I got rid of them.  The heat of my den was intense, for nothing but thin shingles protected me from the scorching summer’s sun.  But I had my consolations.  Through my peeping-hole I could watch the children, and when they were near enough, I could hear their talk.  Aunt Nancy brought me all the news she could hear at Dr. Flint’s.  From her I learned that the doctor had written to New York to a colored woman, who had been born and raised