'I rather think I should,' said the man. 'Well, this is
Mr. Thompson,' I said, as I jumped into the chaise. And this is the
Quaker, Whittier,' said Thompson, driving away as fast as he could. I
looked back, and saw him standing, mouth wide open, gazing after us in
the greatest astonishment."
The two kept on to Plymouth, where they were nearly mobbed a second
time. Years after, Whittier said that once when he was passing through
Portland, a man, seeing him go by, stepped out of his shop and asked
if his name were Whittier, and if he were not the man who was stoned,
years before, by a mob at Concord. The answer being in the
affirmative, he said he believed a devil possessed him that night; for
he had no reason to wish evil either to Whittier or Thompson, yet he
was filled with a desire to kill them, and he thought he should have
done so if they had not escaped. He added that the mob was like a
crowd of demons, and he knew one man who had mixed a black dye to dip
them in, which would be almost impossible to get off. He could not
explain to himself or to another the state of mind he was in.
The next morning we walked with Whittier again in his little garden,
and saw his grapes, which were a source of pride and pleasure. One
vine, he told us, came up from a tiny rootlet sent to him by Charles
Sumner, in a letter from Washington.
Later we strolled forth into the village street as far as the Friends'
meeting-house, and sat down upon the steps while he told us something
of his neighbors.
Pages:
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261