Here, Free From
All Danger Of An Ice Blockade, This Port Will
Become A Safe And Convenient Harbor And
Coaling Station During The Winter Time For Government
And Other Vessels.
At dusk on Sunday evening the collector of
the port, Captain Lyons, and his friends, took
me in their carriage back to Love Creek, where
Mr. Webb insisted upon making me the
recipient of his hospitality for the night.
A little
crowd of women from the vicinity of the swamp
were awaiting my arrival to see the canoe. One
ancient dame, catching sight of the alcohol-stove
which I took from my vest-pocket, clapped her
thin hands and enthusiastically exclaimed, "What
a nice thing for a sick-room-the best nuss-lamp
I ever seed!" Having satisfied the curiosity of
these people, and been much amused by their
quaint remarks, I was quietly smuggled into Mr.
Webb's "best room," where, if my spirit did not
make feathery flights, it was not the fault of the
downy bed in whose unfathomable depths I now
lost myself.
Before leaving Delaware I feel it an
imperative duty to the public to refer to one of her
time-honored institutions.
Persons unacquainted with the fact will find
it difficult to believe that one state of the great
American Republic still holds to the practice of
lashing men and women, white and black.
Delaware - one of the smallest states of the Union,
the citizens of which are proverbially generous
and hospitable, a state which has produced a
Bayard - is, to her shame we regret to say, the
culprit which sins against the spirit of civilization
in this nineteenth century, one hundred years
after the fathers of the Republic declared equal
rights for all men.
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