"It's my name, sir," shouted the furious man. "John Brown. Now you know who I am. Do you know Mrs. Brown?"
"I don't know," stammered the unfortunate young man with sandy hair.
"Who did you come from Providence with? answer me that!" roared the furious man, getting as black as his whiskers with apoplectic rage.
"I—I took charge of a lady, certainly," stammered the guiltless but confounded young man.
"You took charge of Mrs. Brown, sir—Fanny Sophonisba Brown, sir, who has left my bed and board without provocation, sir,—vide the Providence papers, sir,—left me, sir, because I didn't approve of her strong-minded goings on, sir, her woman's-rights meetings, sir, and her nigger colonizations, sir, and her—but that's enough, sir."
Here Miss Sumker, who was a mild, freckled-faced girl, dropped the arm of her companion, and meekly sat down on a doorstep, and covered her face with a handkerchief.
"Mr. Brown, sir!" cried our poor young friend, finally plucking up a spirit.
"Go it, lemons!" shouted a listening drayman, as he hung over the scene from one of his cart stakes.
"Captain Brown," suggested the furious man, with smothered rage.
"Well then, Captain Brown," said Brown, 2d., spitefully, "the lady you allude to is a total stranger to me. She was put under my care by a benevolent-looking old gentleman, with gold-bowed spectacles, and she has already cost me ten dollars, money advanced on her account."