Gilbert was a cruel boy.  He used to strip his little fellow negroes while in the woods, and whip them two or three times a week, so that their backs were all scarred, and threatened them with severer punishment if they told; this state of things had been going on for quite a while.  As I was a favorite with Gilbert, I always had managed to escape a whipping, with the promise of keeping the secret of the punishment of the rest, which I did, not so much that I was afraid of Gilbert, as because I always was inclined to mind my own business.  But finally, one day, Gilbert said to me, “Jake,” as he used to call me, “you am a good boy, but I’m gwine to wip you some to-day, as I wip dem toder boys.”  Of course I was required to strip off my only garment, which was an Osnaburg linen shirt, worn by both sexes of the negro children in the summer.  As I stood trembling before my merciless superior, who had a switch in his hand, thousands of thoughts went through my little mind as to how to get rid of the whipping.  I finally fell upon a plan which I hoped would save me from a punishment that was near at hand.  There were some carpenters in the woods, some distance from us, hewing timber; they were far away, but it was a clear morning, so we could hear their voices and the sound of the axes.  Having resolved in my mind what I would do.  I commenced reluctantly to take off my shirt, at the same time pleading with Gilbert, who paid no attention to my prayer, but said, “Jake, I is gwine to wip you to-day as I did dem toder boys.”  Having satisfied myself that no mercy was to be found with Gilbert, I drew my shirt off and threw it over his head, and bounded forward on a run in the direction of the sound of the carpenters.  By the time he got from the entanglement of my garment, I had quite a little start of him.  Between my starting point and the place where the carpenters were at work I jumped over some bushes five or six feet high.  Gilbert soon gained upon me, and sometimes touched me with his hands, but as I had on nothing for him to hold to, he could not take hold of me.  As I began to come in sight of the carpenters, Gilbert begged me not to go to them, for he knew that it would be bad for him, but as that was not a time for me to listen to his entreaties, I moved on faster.  As I got near to the carpenters, one of them ran and met me, into whose arms I jumped.  The man into whose arms I ran was Uncle Benjamin, my mother’s uncle.  As he clasped me in his arms, he said, “Bres de Lo, my son, wat is de matter?” But I was so exhausted that it was quite a while before I could tell him my trouble; when recovered from my breathless condition, I told him that Gilbert had been in the habit of stripping the boys and whipping them two or three times a week, when we went into the woods, and threatened them with greater punishment if they told.  I said he had never whipped me before, but I was cautioned to keep the secret, which I had done up to this time; but he said he was going to whip me this morning, so I threw my shirt over his head and ran here for protection.  Gilbert did not follow me after I got in sight of the carpenters, but sneaked away.  Of course my body was all bruised and scratched by the bushes.  Acting as a guide for Uncle Benjamin, I took him to where I had left my garment.