My object was to go to Canada, but
having no knowledge of the road, it was necessary for me to make some
inquiry before I left the city. I was afraid to ask a white person,
and I could see no colored person to ask. But fortunately for me I
found a company of little boys at play in the street, and through
these little boys, by asking them indirect questions, I found the
residence of a colored man.
"Boys, can you tell me where that old colored man lives who saws wood,
and works at jobs around the streets?"
"What is his name?" said one of the boys.
"I forget."
"Is it old Job Dundy?"
"Is Dundy a colored man?"
"Yes, sir."
"That is the very man I am looking for; will you show me where he
lives?"
"Yes," said the little boy, and pointed me out the house.
Mr. D. invited me in, and I found him to be a true friend. He asked me
if I was a slave from Kentucky, and if I ever intended to go back into
slavery? Not knowing yet whether he was truly in favor of slaves
running away, I told him that I had just come over to spend my
christmas holydays, and that I was going back. His reply was, "my son,
I would never go back if I was in your place; you have a right to your
liberty.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73