“Well, Sojourner, did you always go by this name?”

“No, ’deed!  My name was Isabella; but when I left the house of bondage, I left everything behind.  I wa’n’t goin’ to keep nothin’ of Egypt on me, an’ so I went to the Lord an’ asked Him to give me a new name.  And the Lord gave me Sojourner, because I was to travel up an’ down the land, showin’ the people their sins, an’ bein’ a sign unto them.  Afterwards I told the Lord I wanted another name, ’cause everybody else had two names; and the Lord gave me Truth, because I was to declare the truth to the people.

“Ye see some ladies have given me a white satin banner,” she said, pulling out of her pocket and unfolding a white banner, printed with many texts, such as, “Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof,” and others of like nature.  “Well,” she said, “I journeys round to camp-meetins, an’ wherever folks is, an’ I sets up my banner, an’ then I sings, an’ then folks always comes up round me, an’ then I preaches to ’em.  I tells ’em about Jesus, an’ I tells ’em about the sins of this people.  A great many always comes to hear me; an’ they ‘re right good to me, too, an’ say they want to hear me agin.”

We all thought it likely; and as the company left her, they shook hands with her, and thanked her for her very original sermon; and one of the ministers was overheard to say to another, “There’s more of the gospel in that story than in most sermons.”

Sojourner stayed several days with us, a welcome guest.  Her conversation was so strong, simple, shrewd, and with such a droll flavoring of humor, that the Professor was wont to say of an evening, “Come, I am dull, can’t you get Sojourner up here to talk a little?” She would come up into the parlor, and sit among pictures and ornaments, in her simple stuff gown, with her heavy travelling-shoes, the central object of attention both to parents and children, always ready to talk or to sing, and putting into the common flow of conversation the keen edge of some shrewd remark.

“Sojourner, what do you think of Women’s Rights?”

“Well, honey, I ‘s ben to der meetins, an’ harked a good deal.  Dey wanted me fur to speak.  So I got up.  Says I,—­’Sisters, I a’n’t clear what you’d be after.  Ef women want any rights more ’n dey ’s got, why don’t dey jes’ take ’em, an’ not be talkin’ about it?’ Some on ’em came round me, an’ asked why I didn’t wear Bloomers.  An’ I told ’em I had Bloomers enough when I was in bondage.  You see,” she said, “dey used to weave what dey called nigger-cloth, an’ each one of us got jes’ sech a strip, an’ had to wear it width-wise.  Them that was short got along pretty well, but as for me”—­She gave an indescribably droll glance at her long limbs and then at us, and added,—­“Tell you, I had enough of Bloomers in them days.”

Sojourner then proceeded to give her views of the relative capacity of the sexes, in her own way.