Among other good trades I learned the art of running away to perfection.

I made a regular business of it, and never gave it up, until I had broken the bands of slavery, and landed myself safely in Canada, where I was regarded as a man, and not as a thing.
The first time in my life that I ran away, was for ill treatment, in 1835.

I was living with a Mr.Vires, in the village of Newcastle.

His wife was a very cross woman.

She was every day flogging me, boxing, pulling my ears, and scolding, so that I dreaded to enter the room where she was.