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Twenty-Two Years a Slave, and Forty Years a Freeman - Embracing a Correspondence of Several Years, - While President of Wilberforce Colony, London, Canada West by Austin Steward
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a bed or bed clothing, or any of the necessaries considered so essential
to the sick.

Perhaps some of his fellow-slaves might come and bathe his wounds in warm
water, to prevent his clothing from tearing open his flesh anew, and thus
make the second suffering well nigh equal to the first; or they might
from their scanty store bring him such food as they could spare, to keep
him from suffering hunger, and offer their sympathy, and then drag their
own weary bodies to their place of rest, after their daily task was
finished.

Oh, you who have hearts to feel; you who have kind friends around you, in
sickness and in sorrow, think of the sufferings of the helpless,
destitute, and down-trodden slave. Has sickness laid its withering hand
upon you, or disappointment blasted your fairest earthly prospects, still,
the outgushings of an affectionate heart are not denied you, and you may
look forward with hope to a bright future. Such a hope seldom animates the
heart of the poor slave. He toils on, in his unrequited labor, looking
only to the grave to find a quiet resting place, where he will be free
from the oppressor.




CHAPTER II.

AT THE GREAT HOUSE.

When eight years of age, I was taken to the "great house," or the family
mansion of my master, to serve as an errand boy, where I had to stand in
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