In her pantalette days and my barefoot days she was a schoolmate of mine.

I saw John's tomb when I made that Missouri visit.
Her father, Mr.Kercheval, had an apprentice in the early days when I was nine years old, and he had also a slave woman who had many merits.
But I can't feel very kindly or forgivingly toward either that good apprentice boy or that good slave woman, for they saved my life.

One day when I was playing on a loose log which I supposed was attached to a raft--but it wasn't--it tilted me into Bear Creek.

And when I had been under water twice and was coming up to make the third and fatal descent my fingers appeared above the water and that slave woman seized them and pulled me out.

Within a week I was in again, and that apprentice had to come along just at the wrong time, and he plunged in and dived, pawed around on the bottom and found me, and dragged me out and emptied the water out of me, and I was saved again.