of the past night, and Mr. and Mrs. Furr to the
house of a friend of the bride in Penfield.

The report soon reached the village that the marriage had been
consummated, which produced a great excitement. Threats of an alarming
character were openly made against the "nigger" who had dared to marry a
white woman, although at her own request. And there was also a class of
persons who associated together, professing great friendship for the
persecuted husband, and often drew him into their company, pretending to
defend his cause while they were undoubtedly plotting his destruction.

One day, after Furr had been drinking rather freely with his pretended
friends, he was taken so violently ill, that a physician was immediately
called. I was with him when the doctor arrived. He gazed upon the
suffering man with an angry expression, and inquired in a tone of command,
"Daniel, what have you been doing?" In vain the poor creature begged for
relief, the doctor merely repeating his question. After looking at him for
some time, he finally administered a potion and hastily left the room,
saying as he did so, "that Furr was as sure to die as though his head had
been cut off." And so it proved, though not so speedily as the medical man
had predicted; nor did he ever visit him again, notwithstanding he
lingered for several days in the most intense agony. It was a strong man
grappling with disease and death, and the strife was a fearful one. But
death at last ended the scene, with none of all his professed friends,
except his faithful but heart-broken wife, to administer to his
necessities. No sound save that of the moaning widow broke the stillness
of his death-chamber. A few friends collected, who prepared the emaciated
body for the grave; enclosing it in a rude board coffin it was conveyed to
its last resting place, followed by three or four men, just as the shades
of evening had fallen upon this sin-cursed world; there in darkness and
silence we lowered his remains, and left the gloomy spot to return to his
disconsolate wife, who had been too ill to join the meager procession.

It has ever been my conviction that Furr was poisoned, most likely by some
of his false friends who must have mingled some deadly drug with his
drinks or food; nor do I believe that the medicine administered by the
physician was designed to save his life. But to Him who knoweth all
things, we leave the matter.

His despised, forsaken, and bereaved wife soon f