Mrs. Burwell gave birth
to a daughter, a sweet, black-eyed baby, my
earliest and fondest pet. To take care of this
baby was my first duty. True, I was but a
child myself only four years old but then I
had been raised in a hardy school had been
taught to rely upon myself, and to prepare my
self to render assistance to others. The lesson
was not a bitter one, for I was too young to
indulge in philosophy, and the precepts that I
then treasured and practised I believe developed
those principles of character which have enabled
me to triumph over so many difficulties. Not
withstanding all the wrongs that slavery heaped
upon ine, I can bless it for one thing youth' s
important lesson of self-reliance.

The baby was named Elizabeth, and it was pleasant to me to
be assigned a duty in connection with it, for
the discharge of that duty transferred me from
the rude cabin to the household of my master.
My simple attire was a short dress and a little
white apron. My old mistress encouraged me
in rocking the cradle, by telling me that if I
would watch over the baby well, keep the flies
out of its face, and not let it cry, I should be
its little maid. This was a golden promise, and
I required no better inducement for the faithful
performance of my task. I began to rock the
cradle most industriously, when lo ! out pitched
little pet on the floor. I instantly cried out,
" Oh ! the baby is on the floor ;" and, not
knowing what to do, I seized the fire-shovel in
my perplexity, and was trying to shovel up my
tender charge, when my mistress called to me
to let the child alone, and then ordered that I
be taken out and lashed for my carelessness.

The blows were not administered with a light
hand, I assure you, and doubtless the severity
of the lashing has made me remember the incident
 so well. This was the first time I was
punished in this cruel way, but not the last.
The black-eyed baby that I called my pet grew
into a self-willed girl, and in after years was
the cause of much trouble to me. I grew strong
and healthy, and, notwithstanding I knit socks
and attended to various kinds of work, I was
repeatedly told, when even fourteen years old,
that I would never be worth my salt. When
I was eight, Mr. Burwell s family consisted of
six sons and four daughters, with a large family
of servants.

From: "Thirty Years a Slave and Four Years in the White House"
by Elizabeth Keckley
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