"Are you the fellow?"
"Yes," says Fessenden's. "There wouldn't any of you let me into your houses, neither!"
"Wouldn't the people I sent you to let you in?"
"No!"
"Hear that, Stephen! your philanthropical Gingerford!—And what did you do?"
"I didn't do nothin',—only laid down to die, I did."
"But you didn't die, did you?"
"No! This man he come along, and brought me here."
"Here? to the niggers?"
"Yes! You wouldn't have me, so they took me, and dried me, and fed me,—good folks, niggers!" Fessenden's bore this simple testimony.