I have already intimated that my condition was much worse, during the first six months of my stay at Mr. Covey’s, than in the last six.  The circumstances leading to the change in Mr. Covey’s course toward me form an epoch in my humble history.  You have seen how a man was made a slave; you shall see how a slave was made a man.  On one of the hottest days of the month of August, 1833, Bill Smith, William Hughes, a slave named Eli, and myself, were engaged in fanning wheat.  Hughes was clearing the fanned wheat from before the fan.  Eli was turning, Smith was feeding, and I was carrying wheat to the fan.  The work was simple, requiring strength rather than intellect; yet, to one entirely unused to such work, it came very hard.  About three o’clock of that day, I broke down; my strength failed me; I was seized with a violent aching of the head, attended with extreme dizziness; I trembled in every limb.  Finding what was coming, I nerved myself up, feeling it would never do to stop work.  I stood as long as I could stagger to the hopper with grain.  When I could stand no longer, I fell, and felt as if held down by an immense weight.  The fan of course stopped; every one had his own work to do; and no one could do the work of the other, and have his own go on at the same time.

Mr. Covey was at the house, about one hundred yards from the treading-yard where we were fanning.  On hearing the fan stop, he left immediately, and came to the spot where we were.  He hastily inquired what the matter was.  Bill answered that I was sick, and there was no one to bring wheat to the fan.  I had by this time crawled away under the side of the post and rail-fence by which the yard was enclosed, hoping to find relief by getting out of the sun.  He then asked where I was.  He was told by one of the hands.  He came to the spot, and, after looking at me awhile, asked me what was the matter.  I told him as well as I could, for I scarce had strength to speak.  He then gave me a savage kick in the side, and told me to get up.  I tried to do so, but fell back in the attempt.  He gave me another kick, and again told me to rise.  I again tried, and succeeded in gaining my feet; but, stooping to get the tub with which I was feeding the fan, I again staggered and fell.  While down in this situation, Mr. Covey took up the hickory slat with which Hughes had been striking off the half-bushel measure, and with it gave me a heavy blow upon the head, making a large wound, and the blood ran freely; and with this again told me to get up.  I made no effort to comply, having now made up my mind to let him do his worst.  In a short time after receiving this blow, my head grew better.  Mr. Covey had now left me to my fate.  At this moment I resolved, for the first time, to go to my master, enter a complaint, and ask his protection.  In order to do this, I must that afternoon walk seven miles; and this, under the circumstances, was truly a severe undertaking.  I was exceedingly feeble; made so as much by the kicks