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[150] showered upon him, and struggling beneath his burden as he came on board. And they were thrown up on the steamer to Mr. Thompson and Mr. Garrison, and whatever person showed himself by the rail. And they lay about in bowlsful, and basketsful, and heaps in the corners so abundant that we knew not how to dispose of them. They were all they had to bring by which to express their gratitude towards those that they supposed had befriended them. No, not all; one poor, decrepit old woman came with a straw basket containing about two quarts of ground-nuts, which she wished to give us. A young woman came with some dainty little cakes that had been carefully prepared in some kitchen. There were various little delicacies brought for us, that we might eat them and remember the givers. I shall not forget these scenes. I shall not forget the cheers and acclamations of that dusky throng, as speeches were made to them. And when the boat moved off, I felt that we had left behind many of the Lord's elect, and that it were better for a man that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea, than that he should lay one finger of harm on these little ones of Christ.

A spirited meeting was held on the wharf, James Redpath presiding, and Samuel Dickerson made an eloquent farewell speech, to which Garrison, Thompson, and Tilton responded. Major Delaney, a colored member of General Saxton's staff, also spoke. The hundreds of school children present sang patriotic songs with great energy. As the steamer swung off, Dickerson was seen kneeling at the end of the wharf, with one arm about his little daughters, and holding above them with the other an American flag; and with this tableau ended the neverto-be-forgotten experiences of the three days in Charleston. Gathering a mass of the flowers which the grateful freedmen had showered upon their friends, George Thompson disappeared for a time, as the steamer made her way out of the harbor, and then, returning, led his companion to their state-room, where he had fairly covered the latter's berth with the fragrant offerings. ‘Garrison!’ he said, ‘you began your warfare at the North in the face of rotten eggs and brickbats. Behold, you end it at Charleston on a bed of roses!’

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