The Randolph House
I live in the Randolph house, eslaved of course. Life has never been easy being born into slavery. You work and work hard or else you can risk your life, but my son Henry doesn't quite understand that. He has heard of a decleration of independence which states, " that all men are created equal." I do not know how to explain to him that it does not include all us enslaved. Anyways, to the Randolph house which had 26 slaves. It has many rooms and was built in 1715. It is rough though because I know I will never be free, but I still work. Maybe I'm still alive because I know maybe if I work hard enough my families future will be afraid or if is because of the little things in life I'm not ready to give up.
I went to the printing shop to pick up the newspaper. The man handed me the paper and continued his work making more pages. He placed letters into a frame and inked them using to balls. He would dab the text and and roll over it using the balls to evenly spread the ink. The balls would be leather stuffed with sheep wool and attached to a stick. He would place the paper on another fame and place it on top of the text then use a lever to press down on the frame to put the ink on the paper. After doing the process multiple making different pages and would bind all the pages together.