This
flattering testimony in favour of "the peculiar institution" generally had
the effect of extracting a dollar or two from the purse of the sympathetic
Southerner; which money went immediately into the coffers of the Vigilance
Committee.
[Footnote *: The line dividing the free from the slave states.]
It was this course of conduct they were about to pursue with Mr. Winston;
not because he exhibited in person or manners any of the before-mentioned
peculiarities, but from his being registered from New Orleans.
The following morning, as soon as he had breakfasted, he started in search
of Mr. Ellis. The address was 18, Little Green-street; and, by diligently
inquiring, he at length discovered the required place.
After climbing up a long flight of stairs on the outside of an old wooden
building, he found himself before a door on which was written, "Charles
Ellis, carpenter and joiner." On opening it, he ushered himself into the
presence of an elderly coloured man, who was busily engaged in planing off
a plank. As soon as Mr. Winston saw his face fully, he recognized him as
his old friend. The hair had grown grey, and the form was also a trifle
bent, but he would have known him amongst a thousand. Springing forward, he
grasped his hand, exclaiming, "My dear old friend, don't you know me?" Mr.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73