The bond-woman lives as a slave, and is left to die as a beast; often with fewer attentions than are paid to a favorite horse.

Scenes of sacred tenderness, around the death-bed, never forgotten, and which often arrest the vicious and confirm the virtuous during life, must be looked for among the free, though they sometimes occur among the slaves.

It has been a life-long, standing grief to me, that I knew so little of my mother; and that I was so early separated from her.

The counsels of her love must have been beneficial to me.

The side view of her face is imaged on my memory, and I take few steps in life, without feeling her presence; but the image is mute, and I have no striking words of her's treasured up.
I learned, after my mother's death, that she could read, and that she was the _only_ one of all the slaves and colored people in Tuckahoe who enjoyed that advantage.