90 
KANSAS. 
with whom the negro was “ raised,” and whom he says he will 
protect, at all hazards, came in town with a team. Two of our 
citizens, wl.o knew the deadly intent with which Dr. Schareff left 
town, asked a ride with Evans, as he returned home, and they 
soon overtook the belligerent pill-pedler, who was puffing along in 
hot haste, as though empires were wavering in the balance at 
each moment’s delay. As the cart passed, he asked for a ride, 
and sat in front, taking no notice of those behind. Presently, 
Evans asked him “ where he was going; ” to which he replied, “ he 
was going hunting,” which seemed a little singular, at this time 
of night. However, no comments were made. After some little 
desultory talk, the valiant doctor said, “ I believe there is a 
negro out this way, and I am going there.” Evans quickly replied, 
“It is just where I am going.” 
Doctor Schareff, supposing his errand must be like his own, com¬ 
menced, at once, a vile tirade upon the negro, and avowed his 
intention to kill him. Evans heard him a while; then, with decis¬ 
ive tones, ordered him to give him his pistols, which he did 
unhesitatingly, and, trembling with fear, dropped his gun upon the 
bottom of the cart. Evans then commanded him to go on and 
state his real sentiments. His plaintive “ Excuse me,” in broken 
English, gained him no reprieve. He was obliged, while the tears 
were coursing down his cheeks, to talk, or be silent, at the bid¬ 
ding of young Evans. At one time he commanded him to say, 
“I eat my words.” His sobbing “Excuse me” availed nothing, 
and upon the threat of “ I ’ll shoot you,” the same he had so often 
used to others, he repeated, “ I ’ll eat my w T ords.” They soon 
arrived at the claim, and Evans, commanding him to be seated 
by the side of the innocent object of much tirade and excite¬ 
ment, said, quite proudly, “ The negro is much the better looking 
of the two.” 
8 th. — The summer, for shortness, has indeed been without pre¬ 
cedent. How we long for the good old days of childhood to 
come back, when a half-hour seemed a month, and the intervening 
time, between Sunday and Sunday, an age! Now birth-days 
ind annual festivals scarcely knell their departure ere they 
