1 I suffered much from hunger, but much more from cold.
2 I was seldom whipped by my old master, and suffered little from any thing else than hunger and cold.
3 I would crawl into this bag, and there sleep on the cold, damp, clay floor, with my head in and feet out.
4 It was never too hot or too cold; it could never rain, blow, hail, or snow, too hard for us to work in the field.
5 I must have perished with cold, but that, the coldest nights, I used to steal a bag which was used for carrying corn to the mill.
6 She had rocked him in infancy, attended him in childhood, served him through life, and at his death wiped from his icy brow the cold death-sweat, and closed his eyes forever.
7 I have seen Colonel Lloyd make old Barney, a man between fifty and sixty years of age, uncover his bald head, kneel down upon the cold, damp ground, and receive upon his naked and toil-worn shoulders more than thirty lashes at the time.