My mother's sister and her husband were getting old and not of much service anymore. So they were given their freedom in return for caring for my father. This they gladly did, although it was hard for them all.

They were all given a small cabin to live in. However, shortly afterward they too had both gone on to glory and my father was left to fend for himself.

When I got there, they were preparing his funeral. I found out that my father, old Bomefree, had died alone in his cabin of starvation or by freezing or both.

The grandson of old Master Charles promised to give him a good burial. So he sent some black paint for his coffin and some whisky for the mourners.