Personal Reminiscences
and Testimony.

   With much pleasure I learn that Sister Eliza Suggs, colored, of Orleans, Neb., is to bring out a book or biography and reminiscences of her parents. I know nothing in detail of her plans, but I shall be surprised if the book is not one of thrilling interest. The author is a most remarkable young woman. Born of such heritage of physical infirmity as is seldom known, she has surmounted incredible difficulties and made progress in education, light labor, and the development of Christian character, that is the astonishment and admiration of her multitude of friends. She is a mite of body -- apparently less than the upper third of a normal growth.

   Carried in arms or wheeled about in a carriage, her frail hands and well developed head have accomplished wonders, obtaining a fair education, which makes her a valuable assistant, sometimes as secretary of religious organizations and work. In former years she assisted her father, more or less, in evangelistic work, and she has presided in public meetings with marked dignity and ability. Carried on the plaform and moved about as occasion required by kind and willing attendants, I have perhaps never seen more clock-like precision than the execution of an interesting program, at which she presided in a public temperance meeting in the M. E. Church, during my last pastorate in Orleans.

   She is one of several sons and daughters of most estimable Christian parents, who were born in slavery, whose thrilling story will be told in the book of which this may form a brief chapter. Her father was one of the ablest and comeliest preachers of his race whom I have known. He considered himself of unmixed blood. His manly form, fine countenance, and strong and melodious voice, made him attractive, both in speech and song.

   When the author of this book was very young, I was witness of a most exciting episode in his remarkable history. We were on a camp ground in western Kansas. On Sabbath morning the service had closed and many had retired from the Tabernacle. Bro. Suggs had not yet left the platform where he had been speaking. He was tappped on the shoulder and requested to step outside when three men quickly handcuffed him and rushed him from the grounds. I was instantly notified that he had called for me and Rev. E. E. Miller. I reached him about forty rods away as they were ready to drive off the ground. He held up his manacled hands and with unaffected indignation, exclaimed: James Suggs, a murderer!" I inquired the meaning, and was informed he was a suspect from Ohio for whom a large reward was offered. The fearful blunder of a bungling detective and his assistants was apparent; but that did not help in the excitement of the moment. I assured them of the error, asked what word I should send his wife; was requested to look after his horse tied on the ground, and they were gone. While others sought his release by legal means, unavailing, as he was so swiftly driven from one county to another, I telegraphed a friend in Topeka to see the Governor, and have the Ohio requisition refused, if it should be presented, as seemed probable. I then wrote Ex-governor St. John, who had employed him and the refugees which had poured into Kansas during the noted exodus from the South, and informed his old neighbors of Princeton, Ill. All this proved unnecessary, for in a day or two he was taken before a Justice in Osborne county, and speedily demonstrated their mistake. The false arrest cost the detective severely, and it would have gone harder with him but for an error in the accusation under which he was confined for some time and brought to trial. An account of this singular affair may be detailed elsewhere. My efforts, occasioned by the excitement of the hour, served to bring out varied testimonials to his worth and high esteem in which he was held.

   Bro. Suggs has long since joined the throng of the ransomed ones, while his companion remains an honored and beloved pilgrim among the saints of Orleans.

   One other thought comes to mind in this connection -- his realization and enjoyment of what he sang so beautifully, the first time I ever heard it, "The Toils of the Road will seem Nothing when I get to the End of the Way."

   The devotion to the author of her sister, Katie, for years a member of the Official Board at Orleans, is something interesting and touching. Hard working as she is at home and away, she seems never to tire of the care of her afilicted but honored charge. When Eliza, hidden in church behind the seats in front, would testify, Kate rises with her in arms, and she speaks clearly and forcibly. There is not a family among our people in the place more respected or more deservedly so. Boarding with them for eight months, with every care and kindness shown, the writer witnesses that he never saw an improper act or heard an improper word. Having heard from the lips of Sister Suggs many an incident of slave days and war times, I shall await with interest the appearance of the forthcoming book.