"Why, what's the matter with Zeke?" asked the trader.
"O, these blacks come to Philadelphia and they get into bad company," replied he. "They are afraid to be seen in the day-time, and so they go prowling about in the night. I'm very sorry you've bought Zeke. He'll never do you one cent's worth of good. A bad speculation, Mr. Godwin."
The prospect seemed rather discouraging, and the trader said, "Come now, suppose you buy Zeke yourself? I'll sell him low."
"If I bought him, I should only have to maintain him into the bargain," replied the black man. "He's my brother, to be sure; but then he'll never be good for anything."
"Perhaps he would behave better if he was free," urged Mr. Godwin.
"That's the only chance there is of his ever doing any better," responded the colored man. "But I'm very doubtful about it. If I should make up my mind to give him a chance, what would you be willing to sell him for?"
The speculator named one hundred and fifty dollars.
"Poh! Poh!" exclaimed the other. "I tell you Zeke will never be worth a cent to you or anybody else. A hundred and fifty dollars, indeed!"
The parley continued some time longer, and the case seemed such a hopeless one, that Mr. Godwin finally agreed to take sixty dollars. The colored man went off, and soon returned with the required sum. Isaac T. Hopper drew up a deed of manumission, in which the purchaser requested him to insert that Zeke was now commonly called Samuel Johnson. The money was paid, and the deed signed with all necessary formalities. When the business was entirely completed, the colored man said, "Zeke is now free, is he?" When Mr. Godwin answered, "Yes," he turned to Friend Hopper and repeated the question: "Zeke is free, and nobody can take him; can they, Mr. Hopper? If he was here, he would be in no danger; would he?"
Friend Hopper replied, "Wherever Zeke may now be, I assure thee he is free."