It seemed that whenever we were sick in the slave quarters that we could be nursed back to health. They seemed to have special knowledge of roots and herbs in the forest that had the power to cure. I had the measles and had gotten bronchitis because of all of that wading in the water. My voice always had a kind of huskiness after that. My father, Ben, used to bring roots from the forest. And Old Rit, as they called my mother, would make a bitter brew from it. She gave it to me very hot. In about six weeks I began to feel better. As soon as I was able to play with the other kids, I was sent back to Miss Cook.
My mother was upset. She told my father that they were getting me real cheap and were barely feeding me. Miss Cook put me to work in that house to help with her weaving. I was determined not to learn to weave. I was always cold and hated the noise of the loom and all of that lint in the air. I wanted to go home. After awhile, Miss Cook thought I was so unteachable, so stubborn and stupid that she sent me back.