Still I persevered, but was more careful about being seen
making any attempt to learn to read. At last, however, I was discovered,
and had to pay the penalty of my determination.
I had been set to work in the sugar bush, and I took my spelling book with
me. When a spare moment occurred I sat down to study, and so absorbed was
I in the attempt to blunder through my lesson, that I did not hear the
Captain's son-in-law coming until he was fairly upon me. He sprang
forward, caught my poor old spelling book, and threw it into the fire,
where it was burned to ashes; and then came my turn. He gave me first
a severe flogging, and then swore if he ever caught me with another book,
he would "whip every inch of skin off my back," &c.
This treatment, however, instead of giving me the least idea of giving it
up, only made me look upon it as a more valuable attainment. Else, why
should my oppressors feel so unwilling that their slaves should possess
that which they thought so essential to themselves? Even then, with my
back bleeding and smarting from the punishment I had received, I
determined to learn to read and write, at all hazards, if my life was only
spared. About this time Capt. Helm began to sell off his slaves to
different persons, as he could find opportunity, and sometimes at a great
sacrifice.
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