disposed of the principal personages in our drama. It
remains to speak of some of those who have borne an inferior part in
the scenes.

Esther left, with Quadaquina, for the Western tribes about the
time when the boy attained the age of sixteen years, and historical
accuracy compels us to admit, that, since their departure, we have
lost all traces of them. One would suppose she would have remained
with her powerful protectors, but it may be she feared the
demoralization around her, to which, in spite of the efforts of the
benevolent to the contrary, so many of her fated race fell victims,
and preferred to expose Quadaquina to the perils of savage life,
rather than to the tender mercies of civilization. We strongly
suspect, that her wild creed was never fairly weeded out of her heart.

Primus remained to the end the same cheery, roguish fellow we have
seen him, and when he died was buried, as became a revolutionary
celebrity, with military honors, which so affected Felix, that, when
his turn came--knowing that he was entitled to no such distinction,
and, yet loth to pass away unnoticed--he begged Doctor Elmer to
write him a "first-rate epithet." The doctor redeemed his promise, by
prefacing a panegyric, in English, with the following quotation from
Virgil--

Hic jacet
FELIX QUI
Potuit Rerum cognoscere Causas
QUI
Que Metus omnes
Et inexorabile Fatum
Subjecit Pedibus
Strepitumque Acherontis avari.

The doctor, on being asked its meaning, one day, by an inquisitive
negro, who had, for some time, been rolling the whites of his eyes at
the inscription, in a vain attempt to understand it, replied, it meant
that Felix was an intelligent and brave fellow, who lived like a
wise man, and died like a hero, whereat, his auditor expressed
great satisfaction, considering both the Latin and the sentiment a
compliment to "colored pussons," generally.

Gladding emigrated to the West, where his stout arm and keen axe did
himself and the State good service. After making a fabulous number of
"claims," and as many "trades," he found himself, at middle age, the
master of a thousand acres of cleared land, with a proper proportion
of timber; his log-cabin converted into a brick house, and sons and
daughters around him.

We had almost forgotten to speak of the fate of Constable Basset. The
good people of Hillsdale soon found out that his talents did not lie
i