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While waiting for a train at Perrysburgh, Cattaraugus Co., a few days ago, I met my old friend, Wm. Cooper, Esq. When I first knew him, Mr. Cooper was Supervisor of that town, and he was several times re-elected by the Democratic party; indeed, he was the most influential Democrat in that part of the county, until in an unguarded hour he became interested in the U. G. R. R. He said, the other day, that he was terribly convicted the first time he heard a fugitive relate his sufferings in slavery, and his adventures in making his escape. The wickedness and the danger of sustaining such a system, and the hypocrisy of the political parties, each of which strained every nerve to convince the South that the other was opposed to slavery, convinced him that there was no choice between them on that question; but at the next election he voted, as usual, the “Loco Foco” ticket. The election had been held at his house, (he kept a hotel,) and after the votes had been counted and the people had all gone home except a neighbor and fellow Democrat, he said, “Patch, I have voted for a slaveholder for President for the last time;” and Patch answered, “So have I, but then what are we to do? The