-gown more closely about him, he walked into the front
room, which overlooked the street. Opening the window, he saw a number of
men--some bearing torches--coming rapidly in the direction of his dwelling.
"I wonder what all this is for; what can it mean," he exclaimed.

They had now approached sufficiently near for him to understand their
cries. "Down with the Abolitionist--down with the Amalgamationist! give
them tar and feathers!"

"It's a mob--and that word Amalgamationist--can it be pointed at me? It
hardly seems possible; and yet I have a fear that there is something
wrong."

"What is it, Garie? What is the matter?" asked his wife, who, with a shawl
hastily thrown across her shoulders, was standing pale and trembling by the
window.

"Go in, Emily, my dear, for Heaven's sake; you'll get your death of cold in
this bleak night air--go in; as soon as I discover the occasion of the
disturbance, I'll come and tell you. Pray go in." Mrs. Garie retired a few
feet from the window, and stood listening to the shouts in the street.

The rioters, led on evidently by some one who knew what he was about,
pressed forward to Mr. Garie's house; and soon the garden in front was
filled with the shouting crowd.

"What do you all want--why are you on my premises, creating this
disturbance?" cried Mr. Garie.

"Come down and you'll soon find out. You white livered Abolitionist, come
out, damn you! we are going to give you a coat of tar and feathers, and
your black wench nine-and-thirty. Yes, come down--come down!" shouted
several, "or we will come up after you."

"I warn you," replied Mr. Garie, "against any attempt at violence upon my
person, family, or property. I forbid you to advance another foot upon the
premises. If any man of you enters my house, I'll shoot him down as quick
as I would a mad dog."

"Shut up your gap; none of your cussed speeches," said a voice in the
crowd; "if you don't come down and give yourself up, we'll come in and take
you--that's the talk, ain't it, boys?" A general shout of approval answered
this speech, and several stones were thrown at Mr. Garie, one of which
struck him on the breast.

Seeing the utter futility of attempting to parley with the infuriated
wretches below, he ran into the room, exclaiming, "Put on some clothes,
Emily! shoes first--quick--quick, wife!--your life depends upon it. I'll
bring down the children and wake the servants. We must escape from the
house--we are attacked by a