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 the day. O, how often, while hid away in the forest, waiting for nightfall, have I thought of the beautiful lines I once heard a stranger recite:—

'O, hail Columbia! happy land! The cradle land of liberty! Where none but negroes bear the brand, Or feel the lash of slavery.

'Then let the glorious anthem peal, And drown "Britannia rules the waves:" Strike up the song that men can feel feel— "Columbia rules four million slaves!"'

"At last I arrived at a depot of the Underground Railroad, took the express train, and here I am." "You are welcome," said Colonel Rice, as he rose from his chair, walked to the window and looked out, as if apprehensive that the fugitive's pursuers were near by. "You are welcome," continued he; "and I will aid you on your way to Canada, for you are not safe here." "Are you not afraid of breaking the laws by assisting this man to escape?" remarked Squire Loomis. "I care not for laws when they stand in the way of humanity," replied the colonel. "If you aid him in reaching Canada, and we should ever have a war with England, may be he'll take up arms and fight against his own country," said the squire. The fugitive eyed the law-abiding man attentively for a moment, and then exclaimed, "Take up arms against my country? What country, sir, have I? The Supreme Court of the United States, and the laws of the south, doom me to be the slave of another. There is not a foot of soil over which the stars and stripes