Calvin Fairbanks

Miss Webster in hér narrative, hasgiveii an account of the scizuré óf Mr. Fairbatiks. The Iiberator says: "He was seiaed ut the time 1VÍ iss VV ebster Wttí, without any legal warrflht, and by a gang of ruffians. It was in the nighti Miss W. was locfeed up in the Debtor's Rcrcmjj'frcni the graied windows ofwliich she could look down into the jail-yardi ín the morning, she says, while absorbed in her meditations - "I was now interrupted by loudjexecrations in the jailyard, which drew my attention tothe ivindow; whenöe I saw Mr. Fairbank, surroünded by a örowd of welldressed men, calling him a vile 'Abolitionist,' and with the same breatli threateniag his üfe. Some proposed to hang him,say no more about it, and let Miss Webster go back lo her school; othefs objected, declaring that they ought both of them to decapitated openly, andtheir lieads cafried though the streets. Some thought best to cut his ihroat, or blow his brains out instantly. But another rush ing up to hitn, declarcd wilh a solemn oath, he would hiimclf lear his heart out with a bowie-knifev t looked to see him fall a mangled corpse; when he gravely but mphatically answered, 'Gentlemcn,think not to frighten ma withsuch a sight. Tl.e drawing of your kiiives and pistols don't alarm me. Tlien tlirnwing open his coat, andbnritig his brcast, he continued, 'I om not afraicl to die. Uut, remember, thcre is n God in heaven! And if I fall a victim to your violence, that man who sheds a drop of my blood, will lose hissoul in heli;1 TV-y seemed a üttle Hatinted bv these remarks, and Mr. F.enquired for Miss Webster; adding that he wislied lo see her. But wag answer ed in an uncoutli manncr, that his wish would not begraniedi' Ere long, the clanking of rons in the ynrd below. together with the heavy blows of a btucKsmitlia sledge, roused me from iny meditntiona. l was with difHoult that I could keep myself from the window. 1, however, restrained my feelings for some time, till Mr. Fairbank's moving cries for pity made me regardless of the prohibition, and { looked. Thecommingling tones of pleasure and pain we re truly nlarming. Mr. F. was being put in irons. The hammering continued; and some scemed moved with pity, while Mr. F. waobegging them not to pound so hard. 'I teil you,5 said he, 'it íiurts too bad! - Oh, donHl I f you know not how it hurts me,1 &c. Rut many seemrd 1o dnlight in lila torture; and declared tlieir wish U have Miss Webster ironod ín the same mannen The process of ironing is long nnd tedious. ACler il was over5 he was agnin placed in tlie dungeon, nnd Í turned from my window with a heavy heart. I nevcr knew till now the solFeringá, of aprisoner."