Kirkham said: "One day I found Jim in the woods, where he had been sent to split rails.

He was sitting down with his face buried in his hands, apparently asleep.

I thought I would crawl slyly up to him, and spring suddenly on him, and frighten him.

I did so, but Jim was not asleep at all, but lifted up his head with such a look of unutterable woe that I was frightened myself, and said: 'Why, Jim, what is the matter ?' Jim cried out: 'O, my boys! my boys! Massa sold my boys!'" Bro.

Kirkham said: "_I_ have vowed everlasting enmity to an institution that will legalize such treatment of a human being." But while these ominous mutterings were heard in so many of the Kansas squatter cabins, little did the high and mighty Atchison Town Company, or the editorial staff of the _Squatter Sovereign_, or the puissant Territorial Legislature, reck that so soon they must take up the sad refrain of Cardinal Woolsey: Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honors thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And--when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening--nips his root; And then he falls, as I do.
The following extract, from an editorial that appeared at this time in the _Squatter Sovereign_, will show what a rose-colored view these gentlemen took of the situation: SLAVERY IN KANSAS.
We receive letters, by nearly every mail, asking our opinion as regards the security of slave property in Kansas Territory.