ertheless, a conscientious woman; and when she left Georgia, to
come North, had any one told her that she would run away, she would have
answered in the spirit, if not the expression, of the oft quoted, "Is thy
servant a dog?"

She enjoyed the journey to the North, the more that the little baby
improved very much in strength; she had had, at her own wish, the entire
charge of him from his birth.

The family had not been two days at the Revere House before Susan found
herself an object of interest to men who were gentlemen, if broadcloth and
patent-leather boots could constitute that valuable article. These
individuals seemed to know as much of her as she did of herself, though
they plied her with questions to a degree that quite disarranged her usual
calm and poetic flow of ideas. As to "Whether she had been born a slave, or
had been kidnapped? Whether she had ever been sold? How many times a week
she had been whipped, and what with? Had she ever been shut up in a dark
cellar and nearly starved? Was she allowed more than one meal a day? Did
she ever have any thing but sweet potato pealings? Had she ever been
ducked? And, finally, she was desired to open her mouth, that they might
see whether her teeth had been extracted to sell to the dentist?"

Poor Susan! after one or two interviews her feelings were terribly
agitated; all these horrible suggestions _might become_ realities, and
though she loved her home, her mistress, and the baby too, yet she was
finally convinced that though born a slave, it was not the intention of
Providence, but a mistake, and that she had been miraculously led to this
Western Holy Land, of which Boston is the Jerusalem, as the means by which
things could be set to rights again.

One beautiful, bright evening, when her mistress had rode out to see the
State House by moonlight, Susan kissed the baby, not without many tears,
and then threw herself, trembling and dismayed, into the arms and tender
mercies of the Abolitionists. They led her into a distant part of the city,
and placed her for the night under the charge of some people who made their
living by receiving the newly ransomed. The next morning she was to go off,
but she found she had reckoned without her host, for when she thanked the
good people for her night's lodging and the hashed cod-fish on which she
had tried to breakfast, she had a bill to pay, and where was the money?
Poor Susan! she had only a quarter of a dollar, and that she