My Bondage and My Freedom

TIME OF BIRTH-GENEAL

OF GRANDPARENTS-THEI

EMED-"BORN TO G

ON-THE LOG CABIN-IT

R NAMES-FIRST KNOWLEDG

S OF CHILDHOOD-COMPAR

THE SON OF A

opulated, and remarkable for nothing that I know of more than for the worn-out, sandy, desert-like appearance of its soil, the general

ty meanness of stealing a hoe-or taking a hoe that did not belong to him. Eastern Shore men usually pronounce the word took, as tuck; Took-a-hoe, therefore, is, in Maryland parlance, Tuckahoe. But, whatever may have been its origin-and about this I will not be positive-that name has stuck to the district in question; and it is seldom mentioned but with con

west order, indolent and drunken to a proverb, and among slaves, who seemed to ask, "Oh! what's the use?" ever

, is literally abolished in slave law and slave practice. It is only once in a while that an exception is found to this statement. I never met with a slave who could tell me how old he was. Few slave-mothers know anything of the months of the year, nor of the days of the month. They keep no family records, with marriages, births, and deaths. They measure the ages of their children by spring time, winter time, harvest time, planting time, and the like; but these soon become undistin

ing the nets, but was also somewhat famous for her good fortune in taking the fishes referred to. I have known her to be in the water half the day. Grandmother was likewise more provident than most of her neighbors in the preservation of seedling sweet potatoes, and it happened to her-as it will happen to any careful and thrifty person residing in an ignorant and improvident community-to enjoy the reputation of having been born to "good luck." Her "good luck" was owing to the exceeding care which she took in preventing the succulent root from getting bruised in the digging, and in placing it beyond the reach of frost, by actually burying it under the hearth of her cabin during the winter months. I

could be better than a ladder? To me, this ladder was really a high invention, and possessed a sort of charm as I played with delight upon the rounds of it. In this little hut there was a large family of children: I dare not say how many. My grandmother-whether because too old for field service, or because she had so faithfully discharged the duties of her station in early life, I know not-enjoyed the high privilege of living in a cabin, separate from the quarter, with no other burden than her own support, and the necessary care of the little children, imposed. She evidently esteemed it a great fortune to live so. The children were no

ter chance of being understood than where children are placed-as they often are in the hands of strangers, who have no care for them, apart from the wishes of their masters. The daughters

ood, belonged not to my dear old grandparents, but to some person who lived a great distance off, and who was called, by grandmother, "OLD MASTER." I further learned the sadder fact, that not only the house and lot, but that grandmother herself, (grandfather was free,) and all the little children around her, belonged to this mysterious personage, called by grandmother, with every mark of reverence, "Old Master." Thus early did clouds and shadows begin to fall upon my path. Once on the track-troubles never come singly-I was not long in finding out another fact, s

t me something to brood over after the play and in moments of repose. Grandmammy was, indeed, at that time, all the world to me

eldom or never to see her again, haunted me. I dreaded the thought of going to live with that mysterious "old master," whose name I never heard mentioned with affection, but always with fear. I look back to this as among the heaviest of my child

are transient. It is not even within the power of slavery to wri

childhood's ch

dew-drop o

e summer bre

e bush-the f

lt by the slave-child neglected and the slaveholder's child cared for and p

, all the strange antics and freaks of horses, dogs, pigs, and barn-door fowls, without in any manner compromising his dignity, or incurring reproach of any sort. He literally runs wild; has no pretty little verses to learn in the nursery; no nice little speeches to make for aunts, uncles, or cousins, to show how smart he is; and, if he can only manage to keep out of the way of the heavy feet and fists of the older slave boys, he may trot on, in his joyous and roguish tricks, as happy as any little heathen under the palm trees of Africa. To be sure, he is occasionally reminded, when he stumbles in the path of his master-and this he early learns to avoid-that he is eating his "white bread," and that he will be made to "see sights" by-and-by. The threat is soon forgotten; the shadow soon passes, and our sable boy continues to roll in the dust, or play in the mud, as bests suits him, and in the veriest freedom. If he feels uncomfortable, from mud or from dust, the coast is clear; he can plunge into the river or the pond, without the ceremony of undressin