wondered at. The farm was soon given up, then the buildings and gardens
passed into other hands, and the institution became a denominational
school, known as the Whitestown Baptist Seminary. But the ideas which
had been implanted there would not consent to depart with this change in
the name and the methods of the institution. The fact that Beriah Green,
after leaving the school, continued to reside at Whitesboro and gathered
a church there rendered it the more difficult to eradicate the doctrines
which he had implanted. The idea of friendship for the black man was
particularly tenacious, and perhaps annoying to the new and controlling
denominational interest. It clung to the very soil, like "pusley" in a
garden. It had gained a strong hold throughout the county. The managers
of the institution could not openly oppose it. They were compelled to
endure it. And so it continued to be true that if a bright colored boy
anywhere in the State desired the advantages of a superior education he
would direct his steps to Whitestown Seminary.

It was during these seminary days that I became a student at the
institution; and it was here that I met the hero of my story, Anthony
Calvert Brown. He was as vigorous and manly a youth of seventeen as I
have ever seen. We two were regarded as special friends. He had been
among us nearly two months, and had become a general favorite, before it
was discovered that he had a tinge of African blood. The revelation of
this fact was made to us on the play-ground. A fellow student, who had
come with Anthony to the school, made the disclosure. The two were
comrades, and had often told us of their adventures together in the
great North woods, or Adirondack forests, on the western border of
which, in a remote settlement, they had their homes. Their friendship
did not prevent them from falling into a dispute, and it did not prevent
Anthony's comrade, who was in fact a bully, from descending to
personalities. He hinted in very expressive terms that the son of a