nds of progress
throughout the world with unfeigned regret. Especially must they lament
that he departed too soon to witness the triumph of liberty, for which
it had so long been his pleasure "to labor and to wait."

We learn with much satisfaction, that a "Life of Dr. Bailey" is in
course of preparation, with the sanction of Mrs. Bailey, which, while
affording much valuable information concerning the antislavery events of
the past, will also offer space, wanting here, to do full justice to the
memory of this estimable man.

FOOTNOTES:

[B] These facts are given because of an erroneous statement which crept
into the brief though kind biographical notice of Dr. Bailey in "The New
American Cyclopaedia," to the effect that the subscription list of the
Philanthropist was transferred with its editor to the National Era. It
was the list of "The Saturday Visiter," published for many years, as an
antislavery journal, at Baltimore, which was transferred to the Era,
together with the services of its editor and proprietor (J. E.
Snodgrass) as special correspondent and publishing agent at that
important point. This arrangement admirably served to secure to the Era
a circulation in Southern communities where the Visiter had already
found its way, and where it would otherwise have been difficult to
introduce a paper which was notoriously the central organ of
Abolitionism.

GRIFFITH GAUNT; OR, JEALOUSY.

CHAPTER XXVI.

He was gone for good, this time.

At the fair the wrestling was ended, and the tongues going over it all
again, and throwing the victors; the greasy pole, with leg of mutton
attached by ribbons, was being hoisted, and the swings flying, and the
lads and lasses footing it to the fife and tabor, and the people
chattering in groups; when the clatter of a horse's feet was heard, and
a horseman burst in and rode recklessly through the market-place;
indeed, if his noble horse had been as rash as he was, some would have
been trampled under foot. The rider's face was ghastly: such as were not
exactly in his path had time to see it, and wonder how this terrible
countenance came into that merry place. Thus, as he passed, shouts of
dismay arose, and a space opened before him, and then closed behind him
with a great murmur that followed at his heels.

Tom Leicester was listening, spell-bound, on the outskirts of the
throng, to the songs and humorous tirades of a pedler selling his wares;
and was saying to himself