One Saturday afternoon there was to be a race, and all was excitement.  Being young, I wished to go with the rest.  I hurried through my work as fast as possible, and then, with a trembling heart, set off in search of my master, fearing lest he would refuse me the simple request.  But he happened to be in uncommon good humor, and readily gave his consent; and away I went, “as happy as a lark.”  When I reached the race-ground, they were just preparing to run the horses.  Seeing me, they knew me to be a poor friendless little slave boy, helpless and unprotected, and they could therefore do with me as they pleased, and have some fine sport at my expense.

When I was asked to ride one of the fast horses, I felt proud of the honor conferred, and was assisted to mount, feeling highly elated with the lofty position I had gained.

The word “go,” was shouted, and the horse whirled off, and it seemed to me as if he flew with the speed of lightning.  My hat fell off the first thing; and there I was, clinging with might and main to the neck of the fiery animal, my head bare, my feet bootless, and my old stripped shirt blown from my back, and streaming out behind, and fluttering like a banner in the breeze; my ragged pants off at the knees, and my long legs dangling down some length below; and at the same time crying “Whoa! whoa!” as loud as I could.  Nor was this all; frightened as I was, nearly to death, I cast a despairing look behind me, and the loud, derisive laugh of the bystanders rung in my ears.

Ludicrous as I must have appeared, this was too much,—­I felt a giddiness coming over me, my brain reeled, my hold relaxed, and the next instant I had fallen to the ground, where all consciousness left me.  When I came to my senses I was lying in bed, surrounded by all the appurtenances of a dying person.

The first thing I heard was Mr. Tower scolding the men who put me on the horse, and threatening them with a law-suit for presuming to do such a thing without his permission.  Mr. Tower considered himself holden to Capt.  Helm for my safe return, and was therefore justly indignant at their placing my life in such peril.  It was indeed a narrow escape, for the horse was running with all his speed when I fell.  My bones were unbroken, however, and I suppose it must have been the tremendous jar I got when I fell that rendered me unconscious; nor do I think it impossible that the fright may not have contributed somewhat to the catastrophe.

It was while I was living with that gentleman that the greatest “general training” ever known in Western New York, came off at “Oak’s Corners,” in the town of Phelps.  It really seemed to me that the whole world were going to the training, and I, of course, felt a great curiosity to go where “all creation” appeared to be going.  Mr. Tower permitted me to go, and I started off in high spirits.  When I arrived within two or three miles of the place the road was almost blocked up with people, and when I got to Oak’s