ands feel the galling bonds
of slavery. I take it joyfully, because it is all for the slave.
The day that I came home from my two interviews and efforts just
related, a pro-slavery student, a Senior, invited me into his room. He
is exceedingly kind and generous, though, I am sorry to say it, a friend
of oppression. He gave me a splendid apple, the first which I had seen
for the season. He dusted my coat with his feather-duster, and he even
dusted my boots. He asked me how far I had been walking. I told him all
which I had said and done, thinking that it would profitably remind him
of the great subject. He roared with laughter. "Three cheers for
Gustavus;" "isn't that rich;"--waving, all the while, the
feather-duster, and breaking out with fresh peals, as I related one
thing after another. The noise which he made brought in several of the
students from neighboring rooms, and he related my stories to them as
they stood with their thumbs and fingers holding open their text-books
at the places where they were studying. They were a curious looking set,
in their dressing-gowns, slippers, and smoking-caps; and the most of
them, unfortunately, happened to be pro-slavery, and advocates of
oppression; by which I mean, not in favor of my mode of viewing and
treating the subject of slavery. One of them was so amused and excited
that he lost all self-control. He threw down his book, caught me with
his two hands about the waist, and tickled me so that I fell upon the
floor. Then they raised a shout. We have cool nights here, sometimes, in
the warmest weather, and we keep, on the foot-boards of our beds, cotton
comforters, called _delusions_, because they are so downy and light. Two
of the students took the Senior's comforter and laid it on me; then four
of them sat down, one on each corner, to keep me underneath. I have told
you that it was a sultry August day. I thought that I should smother. I
told them so, as well as my choked voice would allow; but one of them
said, in a soft, meek tone, as I
Notka biograficzna
Reverend Nehemiah Adams (born February 19, 1806; died October 6, 1878) was an American clergyman and writer. He was born in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1806 to Nehemiah Adams and Mehitabel Torrey Adams. He graduated from Harvard University in 1826, and from Andover Theological Seminary in 1829. He was ordained as co-pastor of First Congregational Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, that same year. In 1832, he married Martha Hooper.
scena niezależna Tarnów kultura alternatywna Karol Szelner okna drewniane warszawa marcin daniec Lektura dla każdego
Joanna Baillie (September 11, 1762February 23, 1851) was a Scottish poet and dramatist. Baillie was very well-known during her lifetime and, though a woman, intended her plays not for the closet but for the stage. Admired both for her literary powers and her sweetness of disposition, her cottage at Hampstead was the centre of a brilliant literary society. Baillie died at the age of 88, her faculties remaining unimpaired to the last.