"You see, George," said Mr Wilson. "Well, I think you're running an awful risk. You should be very careful. They'll kill you if they catch you."
"See here, now, Mr Wilson," said George, coming up and sitting down in front of him: "Look at me. Don't I sit before you, just as much a man as you are? I had a father - one of your Kentucky gentlemen - who didn't think enough of me to keep me from being sold after his death with his dogs and horses. I saw my mother sold with her seven children. You, Mr Wilson, I admit, treated me well, you encouraged me to do well, and to learn to read and write, to make something of myself. But now what? Now comes my master and says I am only a nigger. And last of all he comes between me and my wife, and says I must give her up. And your laws give the white masters power to do all this.
"When I get to Canada [´kxnqdq], that will be my country, and its laws I shall obey. But if any man tries to stop me, let him take care, for I'll fight for my freedom to the last breath I breathe."
The old man looked at him with wonder in his eyes.
"Well, George," he said, "you are changed beyond recognition, and not only in appearance. You hold up your head, and speak and move like a new man."
"Because I'm a free man!" said George proudly. "Yes, sir, I've said 'Master' for the last time to any man. I'm free!"
George stood up, and held out his hand with a proud and independent air. The friendly little old man shook it heartily, and made his way out of the room.