I never knew what peace or comfort was.  I never had a kind word spoken to me till I came to work in your factory.  Mr. Wilson, you treated me well; you encouraged me to do well, and to learn to read and write, and to try to make something of myself; and God knows how grateful I am for it.  Then, sir, I found my wife; you’ve seen her,—­you know how beautiful she is.  When I found she loved me, when I married her, I scarcely could believe I was alive, I was so happy; and, sir, she is as good as she is beautiful.  But now what?  Why, now comes my master, takes me right away from my work, and my friends, and all I like, and grinds me down into the very dirt!  And why?  Because, he says, I forgot who I was; he says, to teach me that I am only a nigger!  After all, and last of all, he comes between me and my wife, and says I shall give her up, and live with another woman.  And all this your laws give him power to do, in spite of God or man.  Mr. Wilson, look at it!  There isn’t one of all these things, that have broken the hearts of my mother and my sister, and my wife and myself, but your laws allow, and give every man power to do, in Kentucky, and none can say to him nay!  Do you call these the laws of my country?  Sir, I haven’t any country, anymore than I have any father.  But I’m going to have one.  I don’t want anything of your country, except to be let alone,—­to go peaceably out of it; and when I get to Canada, where the laws will own me and protect me, that shall be my country, and its laws I will obey.  But if any man tries to stop me, let him take care, for I am desperate.  I’ll fight for my liberty to the last breath I breathe.  You say your fathers did it; if it was right for them, it is right for me!”

This speech, delivered partly while sitting at the table, and partly walking up and down the room,—­delivered with tears, and flashing eyes, and despairing gestures,—­was altogether too much for the good-natured old body to whom it was addressed, who had pulled out a great yellow silk pocket-handkerchief, and was mopping up his face with great energy.

“Blast ’em all!” he suddenly broke out.  “Haven’t I always said so—­the infernal old cusses!  I hope I an’t swearing, now.  Well! go ahead, George, go ahead; but be careful, my boy; don’t shoot anybody, George, unless—­well—­you’d better not shoot, I reckon; at least, I wouldn’t hit anybody, you know.  Where is your wife, George?” he added, as he nervously rose, and began walking the room.

“Gone, sir gone, with her child in her arms, the Lord only knows where;—­gone after the north star; and when we ever meet, or whether we meet at all in this world, no creature can tell.”

“Is it possible! astonishing! from such a kind family?”

“Kind families get in debt, and the laws of our country allow them to sell the child out of its mother’s bosom to pay its master’s debts,” said George, bitterly.