“Behind a frowning Providence there was a smiling face,”

which soon shed beams of light upon unworthy me.

The next morning I was still found struggling on my way faint, hungry, lame, and rest-broken.  I could see people taking breakfast from the road-side, but I did not dare to enter their houses to get my breakfast, for neither love nor money.  In passing a low cottage, I saw the breakfast table spread with all its bounties, and I could see no male person about the house; the temptation for food was greater than I could resist.

I saw a lady about the table, and I thought that if she was ever so much disposed to take me up, that she would have to catch and hold me, and that would have been impossible.  I stepped up to the door with my hat off, and asked her if she would be good enough to sell me a sixpence worth of bread and meat.  She cut off a piece and brought it to me; I thanked her for it, and handed her the pay, but instead of receiving it, she burst into tears, and said “never mind the money,” but gently turned away bidding me go on my journey.  This was altogether unexpected to me:  I had found a friend in the time of need among strangers, and nothing could be more cheering in the day of trouble than this.  When I left that place I started with bolder courage.  The next night I put up at a tavern, and continued stopping at public houses until my means were about gone.  When I got to the Black Swamp in the county of Wood, Ohio, I stopped one night at a hotel, after travelling all day through mud and snow; but I soon found that I should not be able to pay my bill.  This was about the time that the “wild-cat banks” were in a flourishing state, and “shin plasters"[3] in abundance; they would charge a dollar for one night’s lodging.

After I had found out this, I slipped out of the bar room into the kitchen where the landlady was getting supper; as she had quite a number of travellers to cook for that night, I told her if she would accept my services, I would assist her in getting supper; that I was a cook.  She very readily accepted the offer, and I went to work.

She was very much pleased with my work, and the next morning I helped her to get breakfast.  She then wanted to hire me for all winter, but I refused for fear I might be pursued.  My excuse to her was that I had a brother living in Detroit, whom I was going to see on some important business, and after I got that business attended to, I would come back and work for them all winter.

When I started the second morning they paid me fifty cents beside my board, with the understanding that I was to return; but I have not gone back yet.

I arrived the next morning in the village of Perrysburgh, where I found quite a settlement of colored people, many of whom were fugitive slaves.  I made my case known to them and they sympathized with me.  I was a stranger, and they took me in and persuaded me to spend the winter in Perrysburgh, where I could get employment and go to Canada the next spring, in a steamboat which run from Perrysburgh, if I thought it proper so to do.