turned to the city, and I might pass off unnoticed.
There were no questions asked me while on board the boat. The boat landed about 9 o clock in the morning in Cincinnati, and I waited until after most of the passengers had gone off of the boat; I then walked as gracefully up street as if I was not running away, until I had got pretty well up Broadway. My object was to go to Canada, but having no knowledge of the road, it was necessary for me to make some inquiry before I left the city. I was afraid to ask a white person, and I could see no colored person to ask. But fortunately for me I found a company of little boys at play in the street, and through these little boys, by asking them indirect questions, I found the residence of a colored man.
"Boys, can you tell me where that old colored man lives who saws wood, and works at jobs around the streets?"
"What is his name?" said one of the boys,
"I forget."
"Is it old Job Dundy?"
"Is Dundy a colored man?"
"Yes, sir."
"That is the very man I am looking for; will you show me where he lives?"
"Yes," said the little boy, and pointed me out the house.
Mr. D. invited me in, and I found him to be a true friend. He asked me if I was a slave from Kentucky, and if I ever intended to go back into slavery? Not knowing yet whether he was truly in favor of slaves running away, I told him that I had just come over to
