My brother Nicholas said, that our brothers recommended to him and myself to run away when we were old enough. We used to talk this over. When God had opened my eyes, I grew very uneasy reflecting upon the condition of my brothers, who were enjoying their liberty in a land of freedom. I wanted also to be free. I resolved to be free. I made up my mind to run away in the year 1837. When I ran away, my brother Nicholas was not at home; but I was determined to go. I was so intimate with a man named Henry, one of my acquaintances, that I told him I was about to run away. He said he would run with me--but he proved a Judas, and betrayed me. We were to start on Monday night. At this time we lived at the village. The pasture in which our horses were kept was half a mile from the village. Henry told me he would meet me there at half past seven. I tied up all my clothes in a bundle, expecting to start. I waited till after eight o’clock for Henry, but he did not come. I started to go back after him, when, behold! I saw my old master, his two sons, and many other people looking for me. The moon shone very bright--the old man was bare-headed; his head was very white; his spectacles were put back upon his head, and I could see them glisten by the light of the moon. The only reason the old man did not see me was because he was near-sighted, and forgot to pull his spectacles down over his eyes. His two sons were standing in the road where I was to run, and five or six other persons on the watch for me; and my heart was in my mouth. Said I, “Oh! Lord, what shall I do!” I dropped down on my hands and feet, and ran half a mile through the grass. I left my bundle of clothing and three dollars in money which I had been working for, for some time. All the money I had with me was 75 cents; that a Quaker gentleman gave me that afternoon. I had told this gentleman that I was going to run away that night, and he told me which way to start to get clear. I started for Boston. I travelled all that night. The next morning I came out in a road opposite a tavern, where two roads crossed, and I knew not which to take. I took the east. I was 35 miles from home. The tavern keeper was standing at the door. It was about sunrise. He told me I had the wrong road. I came back to him, supposing I had met with a friend. Said he, “Do you want some breakfast?” “Yes, sir, if you please,” I replied. “Come in, and sit down, and you shall have some,” he continued. “No, sir,” said I, “I thank you; I will sit upon the steps.” “No,” said the Georgia man, “come in; we will have breakfast pretty soon, and we will all sit down together.” “No, sir, I thank you, I would as soon sit here;” for I thought he was most too kind to be honest; the Quaker man having told me to avoid Georgia men. When he found I would not come in, he took hold of my collar, but I threw him down, for I was resolved to whip the devil out of the way, if possible. After he was down, I ran for my life. There was a colored