The African Trader; Or, The Adventures of Harry Bayford

Our school was breaking up for the midsummer holidays-north, south, east, and west we sped to our different destinations, thinking with glee of the pleasures we believed to be in store for us. I was bound for Liverpool, where my father, a West India merchant, now resided. He had for most of his life lived in Jamaica, where I was born, and from whence I had a few years before accompanied him to England to go to school.