rch of him, and was
not to be found. On the way to the mayor's office, they met her in the
street, half distracted. As soon as she perceived her child, she cried
out, "My son! My son!" threw her arms round him, and sobbed aloud. She
kissed him again and again, saying, "Oh my child, I thought I had lost
you forever."

When they all arrived at the mayor's office, at the hour appointed for
trial, the captain protested that he had no knowledge of anything wrong
in the business, having merely taken care of the boy at the request of a
passenger. When he was required to appear at the next court to answer to
the charge of kidnapping, he became alarmed, and told where Captain Dana
could be arrested. His directions were followed, and the delinquent was
seized and taken to Isaac T. Hopper's house. He was in a towering
passion, protesting his innocence, and threatening vengeance against
everybody who should attempt to detain him. Badly as Friend Hopper
thought of the man, he almost wished he had escaped, when he discovered
that he had a wife and children to suffer for his misdoings. His tender
heart would not allow him to be present at the trial, lest his wife
should be there in distress. She did not appear, however, and Captain
Dana made a full confession, alleging poverty as an excuse. He was an
educated man, and had previously sustained a fair reputation. He was
liberated on bail for fifteen hundred dollars, which was forfeited; but
the judgments were never enforced against his securities.

WAGELMA.

Wagelma was a lively intelligent colored boy of ten years old, whom his
mother had bound as an apprentice to a Frenchman in Philadelphia. This
man being about to take his family to Baltimore, in the summer of 1801,
with the intention of going thence to France, put his apprentice on
board a Newcastle packet bound to Baltimore, without having the consent
of the boy or his mother, as the laws of Pennsylvania required. The
mother did not even know of his intended departure, till she heard that
her child was on board the ship. Fears that he might be sold into
slavery, either in Baltimore or the West Indies, seized upon her mind;
and even if that dreadful fate did not await him, there was great
probability that she would never see him again.

In her distress she called upon Isaac T. Hopper, immediately after
sunrise. He hastened to the wharf, where the Newcastle packet generally
lay, but had the mortification to find that she