o reflect upon his ungentlemanly conduct and its sad
consequences.

At sight of him, Penn, who knew nothing of his selling whiskey to the
blacks, or of any other offence against the laws or prejudices of the
community, than that of befriending a beaten and bleeding slave, felt
his indignation roused and his sympathies excited.

"It's a dreadful state of society in which such outrages are tolerated!"
he exclaimed.

"_I_ say, dreadful!" sobbed Mr. Pepperill.

"The good Samaritan himself would be in danger of a beating here!" said
Penn.

"I don't know what good smart 'un you mean," replied the weeping Dan,
whose knowledge of Scripture was extremely limited, "but I bet he'd git
some, ef he didn't keep his eyes peeled!" And he wiped his nose with his
sleeve.

Penn smiled at the man's ignorance, and said, as he lifted him up,--

"Friend Daniel, do you know that it is partly your own fault that this
deplorable state of things exists?"

"How's it my fault, I'd like to know?" whimpered Daniel.

"Come, I'll help thee home, and tell thee what I mean, by the way," said
Penn, using the idiom of his sect, into which familiar manner of speech
he naturally fell when talking confidentially with any one.

"I am stiff as any old spavined hoss!" whined the poor fellow,
straightening his legs, and attempting to walk.

Penn helped him home as he promised, and comforted him, and said to him
many things, which he little supposed were destined to be brought
against him so soon, and by this very Daniel Pepperill.

This was the way of it. When it was known that Penn had befriended the
friend of the blacks, Silas Ropes paid Dan a second visit, and by
threats of vengeance, on the one hand, and promises of forgiveness and
treatment "like a gentleman," on the other, extorted from him a
confession of all Penn had said and done.

"Now, Dan," said Mr. Ropes, patronizingly, "I'll tell ye what you do.
You jine with us, and show yourself a man of sperrit, a payin' off this
yer abolitionist for his outrageous interference in our affairs."

"Sile," interrupted Dan, earnestly, "what 'ge mean I'm to do? Turn agin'
him?"

"Exactly," replied Mr. Ropes.

"Sile," said Dan, excitedly, "I be durned if I do!"

"Then, I swear to gosh!" said Sile, spitting a great stream of tobacco
juice across Mrs. Pepperill's not very clean floor, "you'll have a dose
yourself before another sun, which like as not'll be your last!"

This terrible menace produced