A man by the name of Daniel Godwin, in the lower part of Delaware, made a business of buying slaves running; taking the risk of losing the small sums paid for them under such circumstances. In the year 1806, he purchased in this way a slave named Ezekiel, familiarly called Zeke. He went to Philadelphia, and called on Isaac T. Hopper; thinking if he knew where the man was, he would be glad to have his freedom secured on moderate terms. While they were talking together, a black man happened to walk in, and leaning on the counter looked up in Mr. Godwin's face all the time he was telling the story of his bargain. When he had done speaking, he said, "How do you do, Mr. Godwin? Don't you know me?" The speculator answered that he did not. "Then you don't remember a man that lived with your neighbor, Mr.----?" continued he. Mr. Godwin was at first puzzled to recollect whom he meant; but when he had specified the time, and various other particulars, he said he did remember such a person. "Well," answered the black man, "I am he; and I am Zeke's brother." The speculator inquired whether he knew where he was. He replied, "O yes, Mr. Godwin, I know where he is, well enough. But I'm sorry you've bought Zeke. You'll never make anything out of him. A bad speculation, Mr. Godwin." "Why, what's the matter with Zeke?" asked the trader. "O, these blacks come to Philadelphia and they get into bad company," replied he. "They are afraid to be seen in the day-time, and so they go prowling about in the night. I'm very sorry you've bought Zeke. He'll never do you one cent's worth of good. A bad speculation, Mr. Godwin." The prospect seemed rather discouraging, and the trader said, "Come now, suppose you buy Zeke yourself? I'll sell him low." "If I bought him, I should only have to maintain him into the bargain," replied the black man. "He's my brother, to be sure; but then he'll never be good for anything." "Perhaps he would behave better if he was free," urged Mr. Godwin. "That's the only chance there is of his ever doing any better," responded the colored man. "But I'm very doubtful about it. If I should make up my mind to give him a chance, what would you be willing to sell him for?" The speculator named one hundred and fifty dollars. "Poh! Poh!" exclaimed the other. "I tell you Zeke will never be worth a cent to you or anybody else. A hundred and fifty dollars, indeed!"