My pathway was thorny enough, and though there may be no roses without thorns, I had thorns in plenty with no roses.
I was beginning to plan for freedom, and was forever on the alert for a chance to escape and join my sister.

I was then twelve years old, and often talked the matter over with mother and canvassed the probabilities of both of us getting away.

No schemes were too wild for us to consider! Mother was especially restless, because she was a free woman up to the time of her being kidnapped, so the injustice and weight of slavery bore more heavily upon her than upon me.

She did not dare to talk it over with anyone for fear that they would sell her further down the river, so I was her only confidant.

Mother was always planning and getting ready to go, and while the fire was burning brightly, it but needed a little more provocation to add to the flames..