But, to proceed with my narrative.
On the first of January, 1835, I proceeded from St.Michael's to Mr.
William Freeland's, my new home.

Mr.Freeland lived only three miles from St.Michael's, on an old worn out farm, which required much labor to restore it to anything like a self-supporting establishment.
I was not long in finding Mr.Freeland to be a very different man from Mr.Covey.Though not rich, Mr.Freeland was what may be called a well-bred southern gentleman, as different from Covey, as a well-trained and hardened Negro breaker is from the best specimen of the first families of the south.

Though Freeland was a slaveholder, and shared many of the vices of his class, he seemed alive to the sentiment of honor.

He had some sense of justice, and some feelings of humanity.

He was fretful, impulsive and passionate, but I must do him the justice to say, he was free from the mean and selfish characteristics which distinguished the creature from which I had now, happily, escaped.
He was open, frank, imperative, and practiced no concealments,{199} disdaining to play the spy.