We have thus disposed of the principal personages in our drama.  It remains to speak of some of those who have borne an inferior part in the scenes.

Esther left, with Quadaquina, for the Western tribes about the time when the boy attained the age of sixteen years, and historical accuracy compels us to admit, that, since their departure, we have lost all traces of them.  One would suppose she would have remained with her powerful protectors, but it may be she feared the demoralization around her, to which, in spite of the efforts of the benevolent to the contrary, so many of her fated race fell victims, and preferred to expose Quadaquina to the perils of savage life, rather than to the tender mercies of civilization.  We strongly suspect, that her wild creed was never fairly weeded out of her heart.

Primus remained to the end the same cheery, roguish fellow we have seen him, and when he died was buried, as became a revolutionary celebrity, with military honors, which so affected Felix, that, when his turn came—­knowing that he was entitled to no such distinction, and, yet loth to pass away unnoticed—­he begged Doctor Elmer to write him a “first-rate epithet.”  The doctor redeemed his promise, by prefacing a panegyric, in English, with the following quotation from Virgil—­

Hic jacet
FELIX QUI
Potuit Rerum cognoscere Causas
QUI
Que Metus omnes
Et inexorabile Fatum
Subjecit Pedibus
Strepitumque Acherontis avari.

The doctor, on being asked its meaning, one day, by an inquisitive negro, who had, for some time, been rolling the whites of his eyes at the inscription, in a vain attempt to understand it, replied, it meant that Felix was an intelligent and brave fellow, who lived like a wise man, and died like a hero, whereat, his auditor expressed great satisfaction, considering both the Latin and the sentiment a compliment to “colored pussons,” generally.

Gladding emigrated to the West, where his stout arm and keen axe did himself and the State good service.  After making a fabulous number of “claims,” and as many “trades,” he found himself, at middle age, the master of a thousand acres of cleared land, with a proper proportion of timber; his log-cabin converted into a brick house, and sons and daughters around him.

We had almost forgotten to speak of the fate of Constable Basset.  The good people of Hillsdale soon found out that his talents did not lie in the line he had adopted, and, at the next election, chose another in his place.  Thereupon, not discouraged, he turned his hand, with national facility, to something else—­following, successively, the business of a small grocer, of a tavern keeper, and of an auctioneer.  Somehow or other, however, ill luck still followed him; and, finally, he took to distributing the village newspaper, and sticking up handbills.  This gave him a taste for politics, and having acquired, in his employment as auctioneer, a certain fluency of speech, he cultivated