DURING the first years of my service in Dr. Flint's family, I was accustomed to share some indulgences with the children of my mistress

But to the slave mother New Year's day comes laden with peculiar sorrows. She sits on her cold cabin floor, watching the children who may all be torn from her the next morning and often does she wish that she and they might die before the day dawns.

Hot weather brings out snakes and slaveholders, and I like one class of the venomous creatures as little as I do the other.

If a slave is unwilling to go with his new master, he is whipped, or locked up in jail, until he consents to go, and promises not to run away during the year.

But I now entered on my fifteenth year - a sad epoch in the life of a slave girl. My master began to whisper foul words in my ear. Young as I was, I could not remain ignorant of their import

There are wrongs which even the grave does not bury.

When I was nearly twelve years old, my kind mistress sickened and died.