His devils have plundered the town, thrown out the bedridden that jest couldn't move, thrown their goods out after 'em, burned, murdered, tore up.

You come up from the river, and you ain't seen that yet--they ain't touched the lower part of town--and now they're bunkin' in the temple, defacin' it, defilin' it,--that place we built to be a house of rest for the Lord when he cometh again.

They drove me acrost the river yesterday, and promised to shoot me if I dast show myself again.

I sneaked over in a skiff last night and got here to get my two pistols and some money and trinkets we'd hid out.

I was goin' to cross again to-night and wait for you and the wagons." "My God! and this is the nineteenth century in a land of liberty!" "State of Illinois, U.S.A., September 19, 1846--but what of that?
We're the Lord's chosen, and over yender is a generation of vipers warned to flee from the wrath to come.