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Brown, William Wells, 1816?-1884

"Clotelle; or, the Colored Heroine, a tale of the Southern States; or, the President's Daughter"


"Come, Mr. Dugdale, we can't wait all day," said the officer.
"Well, will thee read it for me?" returned the Quaker.
The officer complied, and the man in drab said,--
"Yes, thee may go in, now. I am inclined to throw no obstacles in the way
of the execution of the law of the land."
On approaching the door, the men found some forty or fifty nails in it,
in the way of their progress.
"Lend me your hammer and a chisel, if you please, Mr. Dugdale,"
said the officer.
"Please read that paper over again, will thee?" asked the Quaker.
The officer once more read the warrant.
"I see nothing there which says I must furnish thee with tools to open
my door. If thee wants a hammer, thee must go elsewhere for it;
I tell thee plainly, thee can't have mine."
The implements for opening the door are at length obtained, and,
after another half-hour, the slave-catchers are in the barn.
Three hours is a long time for a slave to be in the hands of Quakers.
The hay is turned over, and the barn is visited in every part;
but still the runaway is not found. Uncle Joseph has a glow
upon his countenance; Ephraim shakes his head knowingly;
little Elijah is a perfect know-nothing, and, if you look
toward the house, you will see Aunt Ruth's smiling face,
ready to announce that breakfast is ready.


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