"I want twenty dollars, sir!"

"_Twenty dollars_! Who told you to come here for twenty dollars!"

"De Lord tole me, sir."

"He did; well I guess the Lord's mistaken this time."

"No, sir; de Lord's nebber mistaken! Anyhow I'm gwine to sit here
till I get it."

So she sat down and went to sleep. All the morning, and all the
afternoon, she sat there still; sometimes sleeping, sometimes
rousing up, often finding the office full of gentlemen; sometimes
finding herself alone. Many fugitives were passing through New
York at this time, and those who came in supposed her to be one of
them, tired out, and resting. Sometimes she would be roused up
with the words:

"Come, Harriet! You had better go; there's no money for you here."

"No, sir; I'm not gwine to stir from here till I git my twenty
dollars!"

She does not know all that happened, for deep sleep fell upon her;
probably one of the turns of somnolency to which she has always
been subject; but without doubt her story was whispered from one
to another, and as her name and exploits were well known to many
persons, the sympathies of some of those visitors to the office