She used to tell me about it, and try to assure herself that she was safe now and had nothing more to fear, but child as I was, I knew she was afraid of something, by the way she used to start when she heard an unusual noise, or when a stranger spoke to her. She would tell me sometimes that if ever anybody attempted to carry her off, never to tell that she was my mother, for then they would take me too, and that was what she ran away for so that I should not be a slave; I am quite white you see, she said I had my father's complexion, who was her master, and therefore a white man. She would not let me call her mother, but mammy, as the most sure way to escape detection. I don't remember how she lived and got along with me, I only remember these things that I wish I could forget, for they have burned my very soul out of me. They came and took her one day when she was at work at a tavern, and I saw her go. She made no outcry. I have wondered so many times since why she did not, but perhaps it was for my sake, thinking if she went peaceably I should not be discovered. She gave me one agonizing look, and motioned me to be still. I suppose she thought it impossible for me to have so hard a fate hero under any circumstances as I should meet there. Perhaps not, but this is a hard world. I only ask that I may die now, and I will trust the mercy of God."
She sunk back exhausted, but revived again in a few moments.
"After she was gone I was afraid of everybody, afraid they would carry me off too, and I wandered
