My situation was a most trying one.

At times I needed a dozen pair of hands.

I was called a dozen ways in the space of a single minute.

Three or four voices would strike my ear at the same moment.

It was--"Fred., come help me to cant this timber here." "Fred., come carry this timber yonder."-- "Fred., bring that roller here."-- "Fred., go get a fresh can of water."-- "Fred., come help saw off the end of this timber."-- "Fred., go quick and get the crow bar."-- "Fred., hold on the end of this fall."-- "Fred., go to the blacksmith's shop, and get a new punch."-- {239} "Hurra, Fred.! run and bring me a cold chisel."-- "I say, Fred., bear a hand, and get up a fire as quick as lightning under that steam-box."-- "Halloo, nigger! come, turn this grindstone."-- "Come, come! move, move! and _bowse_ this timber forward."-- "I say, darkey, blast your eyes, why don't you heat up some pitch ?"--"Halloo! halloo! halloo!" (Three voices at the same time.) "Come here!--Go there!--Hold on where you are! D--n you, if you move, I'll knock your brains out!" Such, dear reader, is a glance at the school which was mine, during, the first eight months of my stay at Baltimore.