while he went up stairs to the room over the kitchen to change his
shirt. He hesitated about taking off his coat, until I told him he
must. "I am not your mistress," said I, "and yet you must mind me."
Tears started as he slowly drew it off, when the torn and bloody
shirtsleeves revealed the long sears, and a few unhealed sores on his
arms. Said I, "Are these the marks of the slave whip?"

He nodded assent, while tears were falling.

"When was this done?"

"Two nights afore I lef'."

"What was jour offence?"

"Dis was what I got for runnin' off, an' I fainted, an' master dragged
me in my cabin, and didn't lock me in, 'case I's so weak. I reckon he
thought I's safe. But I got an ing'on to rub over the bottoms of my
shoes so dogs couldn't foller me, an' I got four loaves o' bread and a
big piece o' boiled meat, an' crawled into de barn an' tuck dis bag
an' buffalo-robe for my bed, an' dragged it into de woods, and tuck my
bes' frien', de Norf star, an' follered clean to dis place."

"What did you do for something to eat?"

"I tuck corn in de fiel'. When I foun' log heaps an' brush burnin' I
roasted a heap to las' a few days; but I was weak an' trimbly to
start, an' kep' so all de way."

After this little history I made him take off his vest, which was also