The love of liberty, that had been burning in my bosom for years, and had been well nigh extinguished, was now resuscitated.

At night, when all around was peaceful, I would walk the decks, meditating upon my happy prospects.
I should have stated, that before leaving St.Louis, I went to an old man named Frank, a slave, owned by a Mr.Sarpee.This old man was very distinguished (not only among the slave population, but also the whites) as a fortune-teller.

He was about seventy years of age, something over six feet high, and very slender.

Indeed, he was so small around his body that it looked as though it was not strong enough to hold up his head.
Uncle Frank was a very great favorite with the young ladies, who would go to him in great numbers to get their fortunes told.

And it was generally believed that he could really penetrate into the mysteries of futurity.