It was answered by three colored "gemmen," two of whom modestly withdrew their application when they found where we were going, not caring to brave the chill of polar latitudes.

The other, who was not a little tattered in his wardrobe, and correspondingly reckless, was quite willing to set his face toward the pole.

Although but recently from "Sou' Car'liny, sar," and black as a crow, he assured us he could stand the cold "jes' like a fly, sar." "What name ?" Raed asked.
"Charles Sumner Harris, sar.

Been cook on oyster-schooner, sar." "Charles Sumner Harris!" exclaimed Wade, who was coming in.

"You never wore that name in South Carolina." "No, sar; lately 'dopted it, sar." "What was your old name ?" demanded Wade, looking at him as if he was about to give him five hundred lashes.
The man hesitated.
"When you were a slave, I mean.