Opening the window, he saw a number of men--some bearing torches--coming rapidly in the direction of his dwelling.
"I wonder what all this is for; what can it mean," he exclaimed.
They had now approached sufficiently near for him to understand their cries.

"Down with the Abolitionist--down with the Amalgamationist! give them tar and feathers!" "It's a mob--and that word Amalgamationist--can it be pointed at me?
It hardly seems possible; and yet I have a fear that there is something wrong." "What is it, Garie?
What is the matter ?" asked his wife, who, with a shawl hastily thrown across her shoulders, was standing pale and trembling by the window.
"Go in, Emily, my dear, for Heaven's sake; you'll get your death of cold in this bleak night air--go in; as soon as I discover the occasion of the disturbance, I'll come and tell you.

Pray go in." Mrs.Garie retired a few feet from the window, and stood listening to the shouts in the street.
The rioters, led on evidently by some one who knew what he was about, pressed forward to Mr.Garie's house; and soon the garden in front was filled with the shouting crowd.
"What do you all want--why are you on my premises, creating this disturbance ?" cried Mr.Garie.
"Come down and you'll soon find out.

You white livered Abolitionist, come out, damn you! we are going to give you a coat of tar and feathers, and your black wench nine-and-thirty.

Yes, come down--come down!" shouted several, "or we will come up after you." "I warn you," replied Mr.Garie, "against any attempt at violence upon my person, family, or property.