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The Fugitive Blacksmith - or, Events in the History of James W. C. Pennington by James W. C. Pennington
page 49 of 95 (51%)
myself down, and concealed myself as best I could from the light of day.
After recovering a little from my fright, I commenced again eating my
whole corn. Grain by grain I worked away at it; when my jaws grew tired,
as they often did, I would rest, and then begin afresh. Thus, although I
began an early breakfast, I was nearly the whole of the forenoon before I
had done.

Nothing of importance occurred during the day, until about the middle of
the afternoon, when I was thrown into a panic by the appearance of a party
of gunners, who passed near me with their dogs. After shooting one or two
birds, however, and passing within a few rods of my frail covering, they
went on, and left me once more in hope. Friday night came without any
other incident worth naming. As I sallied out, I felt evident benefit from
the ear of corn I had nibbled away. My strength was considerably renewed;
though I was far from being nourished, I felt that my life was at least
safe from death by hunger. Thus encouraged, I set out with better speed
than I had made since Sunday and Monday night. I had a presentiment, too,
that I must be near free soil. I had not yet the least idea where I should
find a home or a friend, still my spirits were so highly elated, that I
took the whole of the road to myself; I ran, hopped, skipped, jumped,
clapped my hands, and talked to myself. But to the old slaveholder I had
left, I said, "Ah! ha! old fellow, I told you I'd fix you."

After an hour or two of such freaks of joy, a gloom would come over me in
connexion with these questions, "But where are you going? What are you
going to do? What will you do with freedom without father, mother,
sisters, and brothers? What will you say when you are asked where you were
born? You know nothing of the world; how will you explain the fact of your
ignorance?"

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