You have been a comfort to her, and I have been a trouble.  And Linda, poor Linda; what’ll become of her?  Phil, you don’t know what a life they lead her.  She has told me something about it, and I wish old Flint was dead, or a better man.  When I was in jail, he asked her if she didn’t want him to ask my master to forgive me, and take me home again.  She told him, No; that I didn’t want to go back.  He got mad, and said we were all alike.  I never despised my own master half as much as I do that man.  There is many a worse slaveholder than my master; but for all that I would not be his slave.”

While Benjamin was sick, he had parted with nearly all his clothes to pay necessary expenses.  But he did not part with a little pin I fastened in his bosom when we parted.  It was the most valuable thing I owned, and I thought none more worthy to wear it.  He had it still.

His brother furnished him with clothes, and gave him what money he had.

They parted with moistened eyes; and as Benjamin turned away, he said, “Phil, I part with all my kindred.”  And so it proved.  We never heard from him again.

Uncle Phillip came home; and the first words he uttered when he entered the house were, “Mother, Ben is free!  I have seen him in New York.”  She stood looking at him with a bewildered air.  “Mother, don’t you believe it?” he said, laying his hand softly upon her shoulder.  She raised her hands, and exclaimed, “God be praised!  Let us thank him.”  She dropped on her knees, and poured forth her heart in prayer.  Then Phillip must sit down and repeat to her every word Benjamin had said.  He told her all; only he forbore to mention how sick and pale her darling looked.  Why should he distress her when she could do him no good?

The brave old woman still toiled on, hoping to rescue some of her other children.  After a while she succeeded in buying Phillip.  She paid eight hundred dollars, and came home with the precious document that secured his freedom.  The happy mother and son sat together by the old hearthstone that night, telling how proud they were of each other, and how they would prove to the world that they could take care of themselves, as they had long taken care of others.  We all concluded by saying, “He that is willing to be a slave, let him be a slave.”

V. The Trials Of Girlhood.

During the first years of my service in Dr. Flint’s family, I was accustomed to share some indulgences with the children of my mistress.  Though this seemed to me no more than right, I was grateful for it, and tried to merit the kindness by the faithful discharge of my duties.  But I now entered on my fifteenth year—­a sad epoch in the life of a slave girl.  My master began to whisper foul words in my ear.  Young as I was, I could not remain ignorant of their import.  I tried to treat them with indifference or contempt.  The master’s age, my extreme youth, and the fear that his conduct