Mrs. Robbem met Mr. King as soon as he entered her father’s door, and said in a tone of stern surprise, “Where is my servant, sir?”

He bowed and answered, “If you will allow me to walk in for a few moments, I will explain my errand.”  As soon as they were seated he said:  “I came to inform you that Tulee does not wish to go back to Carolina; and that by the laws of Massachusetts she has a perfect right to remain here.”

“She’s an ungrateful wench!” exclaimed Mrs. Robbem.  “She’s always been treated kindly, and she wouldn’t have thought of taking such a step, if she hadn’t been put up to it by meddlesome Abolitionists, who are always interfering with gentlemen’s servants.”

“The simple fact is,” rejoined Mr. King, “Tulee used to be the playmate and attendant of my wife when both of them were children.  They lived together many years, and are strongly attached to each other.”

“If your wife is a Southern lady,” replied Mrs. Robbem, “she ought to be above such a mean Yankee trick as stealing my servant from me.”

Her husband entered at that moment, and the visitor rose and bowed as he said, “Mr. Robbem, I presume.”

He lowered his head somewhat stiffly in reply; and his wife hastened to say, “The Abolitionists have been decoying Tulee away from us.”

Mr. King repeated the explanation he had already made.

“I thought the wench had more feeling,” replied Mr. Robbem.  “She left children in Carolina.  But the fact is, niggers have no more feeling for their young than so many pigs.”

“I judge differently,” rejoined Mr. King; “and my principal motive for calling was to speak to you about those children.  I wish to purchase them for Tulee.”

“She shall never have them, sir!” exclaimed the slave-trader, fiercely.  “And as for you Abolitionists, all I wish is that we had you down South.”

“Differences of opinion must be allowed in a free country,” replied Mr. King.  “I consider slavery a bad institution, injurious to the South, and to the whole country.  But I did not come here to discuss that subject.  I simply wish to make a plain business statement to you.  Tulee chooses to take her freedom, and any court in Massachusetts will decide that she has a right to take it.  But, out of gratitude for services she has rendered my wife, I am willing to make you gratuitous compensation, provided you will enable me to buy all her children.  Will you name your terms now, or shall I call again?”.

“She shall never have her children,” repeated Mr. Robbem; “she has nobody but herself and the Abolitionists to blame for it.”

“I will, however, call again, after you have thought of it more calmly,” said Mr. King.  “Good morning, sir; good morning, madam.”

His salutations were silently returned with cold, stiff bows.

A second and third attempt was made with no better success.  Tulee grew very uneasy.  “They’ll sell my Benny,” said she.  “Ye see they ain’t got any heart, ’cause they’s used to selling picaninnies.”