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At length an old man came near to me, and dropping his voice to a
half-whisper, said in a confidential tone: "N-e-ow, Mr. Butler, I want
to advise you as a friend, and for your own good, _when you get away,
just keep away._"
I knew this man was a Yankee, for I am a Yankee myself. His name was Ira
Norris. He had been given an office in Platte county, Mo., and must
needs be a partisan for the peculiar institution. I gave my friend
Norris to understand that I would try to attend to my own business.
Others sought to persuade me to promise to leave the country and not
come back. Then when no good result seemed to come from our talk, I said
to them: "Gentlemen, there is no use in keeping up this debate any
longer; if I live anywhere, I shall live in Kansas. Now do your duty as
you understand it, and I will do mine as I understand it. I ask no
favors of you."
Then the leaders of this business went away by themselves and held a
consultation. Of course I did not know what passed among them, but Dr.


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