During the period that I spent in slavery I was not large
enough to be of much service, still I was occupied most of the time in
cleaning the yards, carrying water to the men in the fields, or going
to the mill to which I used to take the corn, once a week, to be
ground. The mill was about three miles from the plantation. This
work I always dreaded. The heavy bag of corn would be thrown across
the back of the horse, and the corn divided about evenly on each side;
but in some way, almost without exception, on these trips, the corn
would so shift as to become unbalanced and would fall off the horse,
and often I would fall with it. As I was not strong enough to reload
the corn upon the horse, I would have to wait, sometimes for many
hours, till a chance passer-by came along who would help me out of my
trouble. The hours while waiting for some one were usually spent in
crying. The time consumed in this way made me late in reaching the
mill, and by the time I got my corn ground and reached home it would
be far into the night. The road was a lonely one, and often led
through dense forests. I was always frightened. The woods were said
to be full of soldiers who had deserted from the army, and I had been
told that the first thing a deserter did to a Negro boy when he found
him alone was to cut off his ears.
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