d have chosen this, rather than my lot as a slave, though white people
considered it an easy one; and it was so compared with the fate of others.
I was never cruelly overworked; I was never lacerated with the whip from
head to foot; I was never so beaten and bruised that I could not turn from
one side to the other; I never had my heel-strings cut to prevent my
running away; I was never chained to a log and forced to drag it about,
while I toiled in the fields from morning till night; I was never branded
with hot iron, or torn by bloodhounds. On the contrary, I had always been
kindly treated, and tenderly cared for, until I came into the hands of Dr.
Flint. I had never wished for freedom till then. But though my life in
slavery was comparatively devoid of hardships, God pity the woman who is
compelled to lead such a life!

My food was passed up to me through the trap-door my uncle had contrived;
and my grandmother, my uncle Phillip, and aunt Nancy would seize such
opportunities as they could, to mount up there and chat with me at the
opening. But of course this was not safe in the daytime. It must all be
done in darkness. It was impossible for me to move in an erect position,
but I crawled about my den for exercise. One day I hit my head against
something, and found it was a gimlet. My uncle had left it sticking there
when he made the trap-door. I was as rejoiced as Robinson Crusoe could have
been at finding such a treasure. It put a lucky thought into my head. I
said to myself, "Now I will have some light. Now I will see my children." I
did not dare to begin my work during the daytime, for fear of attracting
attention. But I groped round; and having found the side next the street,
where I could frequently see my children, I stuck the gimlet in and waited
for evening. I bored three rows of holes, one above another; then I bored
out the interstices between. I thus succeeded in making one hole about an
inch long and an inch broad. I sat by it till late into the night, to enjoy
the little whiff of air that floated in. In the morning I watched for my
children. The first person I saw in the street was Dr. Flint. I had a
shuddering, superstitious feeling that it was a bad omen. Several familiar
faces passed by. At last I heard the merry laugh of children, and presently
two sweet little faces were looking up at me, as though they knew I was
there, and were conscious of the joy they imparted. How I longed to _tell_
them I was ther