I take it joyfully, because it is all for the slave.
The day that I came home from my two interviews and efforts just
related, a pro-slavery student, a Senior, invited me into his room. He
is exceedingly kind and generous, though, I am sorry to say it, a friend
of oppression. He gave me a splendid apple, the first which I had seen
for the season. He dusted my coat with his feather-duster, and he even
dusted my boots. He asked me how far I had been walking. I told him all
which I had said and done, thinking that it would profitably remind him
of the great subject. He roared with laughter. "Three cheers for
Gustavus;" "isn't that rich;"--waving, all the while, the
feather-duster, and breaking out with fresh peals, as I related one
thing after another. The noise which he made brought in several of the
students from neighboring rooms, and he related my stories to them as
they stood with their thumbs and fingers holding open their text-books
at the places where they were studying. They were a curious looking set,
in their dressing-gowns, slippers, and smoking-caps; and the most of
them, unfortunately, happened to be pro-slavery, and advocates of
oppression; by which I mean, not in favor of my mode of viewing and
treating the subject of slavery.
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