man, and had come prepared to give him a coating of unsavory mixture.
He was a preacher as well as a teacher, and his “store clothes” were likely to betray him; but some thoughtful person had brought an old drab overcoat and a rough workman's cap, and arrayed in these garments he walked through the crowd without his identity being suspected.
But another party was not so fortunate.
He was a respected citizen of the village, an elder in the Presbyterian church, and a strong pro-slavery man. He dressed in black and his appearance was not unlike that of the lecturer.
By some hard luck he happened to be passing that way when the crowd was looking for the Abolitionist, and was discovered.
“There he goes,” was the cry that was raised, and a fire of eggs and other things was opened upon him. He reached his home in an awful plight, and it was charged that his conversation was not unmixed with profanity.
On another occasion the writer was present when the friends of the lecturer undertook to convey him to a place of safety.
They formed a circle about him and moved away while the mob followed, hurling eggs and clods and sticks and whatever else came handy.
We kept quietly on our way until we reached a place in the road that had been freshly graveled, and where the surface was covered with stones just suited to our use. Here we halted, and, with rocks in hand, formed a line of battle.
It took only one volley to put the enemy to rout, and we had no further trouble.
At last, after several men had been prevented from speaking in our village, the services of a female