He has never shown his head in New Bedford since that time.
This little incident is perfectly characteristic of the spirit of the colored people in New Bedford.

A slave could not be taken from that town seventeen years ago, any more than he could be so taken away now.

The reason is, that the colored people in that city are educated up to the point of fighting for their freedom, as well as speaking for it.
Once assured of my safety in New Bedford, I put on the habiliments of a common laborer, and went on the wharf in search of work.

I had no notion of living on the honest and generous sympathy of my colored brother, Johnson, or that of the abolitionists.

My cry was like that of Hood's laborer, "Oh! only give me work." Happily for me, I was not long in searching.