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Monthly Bundle Sample, Boxwooder 365, p.3 
it was, whether it was a dream or a vision, and yet the more I think of it, I
suppose it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that it was a bonafide vision.
Well, anyway, to the best of my memory, here’s the story Joshua told on that
wonderful night so many years ago.
"Well, my children, tonight I’m going to tell you a story, a true story, about a mysterious thing that happened to me a good many years ago; actually, as I recall, it happened on Christmas Eve, 1838. I had locked all the doors and put out the main lamps in the manor house. The master of the house, Master John Hamilton, and the other members of his family had gone to bed around ten o’clock, and I suppose it was a bit before midnight when I finally got to bed. That night I was really tired, as tired as a plow mule that had worked from first light till dusk. I said evening prayers and then wasted no time in closing my eyes and drifting off into that wonderful, yet mysterious, world of sleep. "On that night I slept soundly, and before I knew ‘t, I became a central figure in a very fascinating vision. I call it a vision because it seemed so very real, much more so than an ordinary dream. I don’t understand how such a thing could be, but I saw myself as a boy again, a slave boy, living in a time long since past In the vision I seemed to
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