hurry.

"Come," said he, "I'm not going to spend all my time on you; if you want to
be free, come along; pay what you owe and start."

"But I have only this quarter," said Susan, despairingly.

"I don't calculate to give runaway niggers their supper, and night's
lodging and breakfast for twenty-five cents," said the woman. "I aint so
green as that, I can tell you. If you've got no money, open your bundle,
and we can make a trade, like as not."

Susan opened her bundle, (which was a good strong carpet-bag her mistress
had given her,) and after some hesitation, the woman selected as her due a
nice imitation of Cashmere shawl, the last present her mistress had given
her. It had cost four dollars. Susan could hardly give it up; she wanted to
keep it as a remembrance, but she already felt herself in the hands of the
Philistines, and she fastened up her carpet-bag and set forward. She was
carried off in the cars to an interior town, and directed to the house of
an Abolitionist, to whom she was to hire herself.

Her fare was paid by this person, and then deducted from her wages--her
wages were four dollars a month. She cooked and washed for ten in family;
cleaned the whole house, and did all _the chores_, except sawing the wood,
which the gentleman of the house did himself. She was only required to
split the hard, large knots--the oldest son splitting the easy sticks for
her. On Saturday, the only extra duty required of her was to mend every
item of clothing worn in the family; the lady of the house making them
herself. Susan felt very much as if it was out of the frying pan into the
fire; or rather, as if she had been transferred from one master to another.