it a duty to hate all mankind.

If there is one thing more than another calculated to make one hate and
detest American slavery, it is to witness the meetings between
fugitives and their friends in Canada. Jerome had beheld some of these
scenes. The wife who, after years of separation, had escaped from her
prison-house and followed her husband had told her story to him. He had
seen the newly-arrived wife rush into the arms of the husband, whose
dark face she had not looked upon for long, weary years. Some told of
how a sister had been ill-used by the overseer; others of a husband's
being whipped to death for having attempted to protect his wife. He had
sat in the little log-hut, by the fireside, and heard tales that caused
his heart to bleed; and his bosom swelled with just indignation when he
thought that there was no remedy for such atrocious acts. It was with
such feelings that he informed his employer that he should leave him at
the expiration of a month.

In vain did Mr. Streeter try to persuade Jerome to remain with him; and
late, in the month of February, the latter found himself on board a
small vessel loaded with pine-lumber, descending the St. Lawrence,
bound for Liverpool. The bark, though an old one, was, nevertheless,
considered seaworthy, and the fugitive was working his way out. As the
vessel left the river and gained the open sea, the black man appeared
to rejoice at the prospect of leaving a country in which his right to
manhood had been denied him, and his happiness destroyed.

The wind was proudly swelling the white sails, and the little craft
plunging into the foaming waves, with the land fast receding in the
distance, when Jerome mounted a pile of lumber to take a last farewell
of his native land. With tears glistening in his eyes, and with
quivering lips, he turned his gaze toward the shores that were fast
fading in the dim distance, and said,--

"Though forced from my native land by the tyrants of the South, I hope
I shall some day be able to return. With all her faults, I love my
country still."

CHAPTER XXIX

A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND.

The rain was falling on the dirty pavements of Liverpool as Jerome left
the vessel after her arrival. Passing the custom-house, he took a cab,
and proceeded to Brown's Hotel, Clayton Square.

Finding no employment in Liverpool, Jerome determined to go into the
interior and seek for work. He, therefore, called for his bill, and
made ready for his