e few lines reach you you may be
enjoying good health. I arrived in New Bedford Thursday morning
safely and what little I have seen of the city I like it very
much my friends were very glad to see me. I found my sister very
well. Give my love to Mrs. Still and also your dear little
children. I am now out at service. I do not think of going to
Canada now. I think I shall remain in this city this winter.
Please tell Mrs. Still I have not met any person who has treated
me any kinder than she did since I left. I consider you both to
have been true friends to me. I hope you will think me the same
to you. I feel very thankful to you indeed. It might been
supposed, out of sight out of mind, but it is not so. I never
forget my friends. Give my love to Florence. If you come to this
city I would be very happy to see you. Kiss your dear little
children for me. Please to answer this as soon as possible, so
that I may know you received this. No more at present. I still
remain your friend,

ELLEN SAUNDERS.

ELIZA MCCOY--the wife of Robert McCoy, whose narrative has just been
given--and who was left to wait in hope when her husband escaped--soon
followed him to freedom. It is a source of great satisfaction to be able
to present her narrative in so close proximity to her husband's. He
arrived about the first of October--she about the first of November,
following. From her lips testimony of much weight and interest was
listened to by several friends relative to her sufferings as a slave--on
the auction-block, and in a place of concealment seven months, waiting
and praying for an opportunity to escape. But it was thought sufficient
to record merely a very brief outline of her active slave life, which
consisted of the following noticeable features.

Eliza had been owned by Andrew Sigany, of Norfolk--age about
thirty-eight--mulatto, and a woman whose appearance would readily
command attention and respect anywhere outside of the barbarism of
Slavery. She stated that her experience as a sufferer in cruel hands had
been very trying, and that in fretting under hardships, she had "always
wanted to be free." Her language was unmistakable on this point. Neither
mistress nor servant was satisfied with each other; the mistress was so
"queer" and "hard to please," that Eliza became heartily sick of trying
to please her--an angel would have failed with such a woman. So, while