I had but four pieces of clothing about my person, having left all the rest in the hands of my captors.

I was a starving fugitive, without home or friends--a reward offered for my person in the public papers--pursued by cruel manhunters, and no claim upon him to whose door I went.

Had he turned me away, I must have perished.

Nay, he took me in, and gave me of his food, and shared with me his own garments.

Such treatment I had never before received at the hands of any white man.
A few such men in slaveholding America, have stood, and even now stand, like Abrahams and Lots, to stay its forthcoming and well-earned and just judgment.
The limits of this work compel me to pass over many interesting incidents which occurred during my six months' concealment in that family.