Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"De result, suh, wuz, de jury teck back all dee had say, an' ax me to
go down to de tavern an' have much whiskey as I could stan' up to, an'
dee'd pay for it; an' de jedge distracted 'em to tu'n me loose. P'laski,
he wuz sort o' bothered; he ain' know wherr to be disapp'inted 'bout de
hangin' or pleased wid bein' set up so as de centre of distraction, tell
ole Mis' Twine begin to talk 'bout 'restin' of him. Dat set him back;
but I ax 'em, b'fo' dee 'rest him, couldn' I have jurisdictionment on
him for a leetle while. Dee grant my be-ques', 'cuz dee know I gwine to
erward him accordin' to his becessities, an' I jes nod my head to him
an' went out. When we got roun' hine de jail, I invite him to perject
his coat. He nex' garment wuz my own shut, an' I tolt him to remove dat
too; dat I had to get nigh to he backbone, an' I couldn't 'ford to weah
out dat shut no mor'n he had done already weah it. Somebody had done
fetch de bunch o' hick'ries whar dee had done fine in my house, an' hit
jes like Providence. I lay 'em by me while I put him on de altar, I
jes made him wrop he arms roun' a little locus'-tree, an' I fasten he
wris'es wid he own gallowses, 'cuz I didn' warn' was'e dem hick'ries;
an' all de time I bindin' him I tellin' him 'bout he sins. Den, when I
had him ready, I begin, an' I rehearse de motter wid him f'om de time he
had ax me 'bout de tunament spang tell he come to see me hang, an' wid
ev'y wud I gin him de admonishment, tell when I got thoo wid him he
wouldn' 'a' tetch a ring ef he had been in 'em up to he neck; an' as to
shuts, he would' a' gone naked in frost b'fo' he'd 'a' put one on. He
back gin out b'fo' my hick'ries did; but I didn' wholly lors 'em. I
receive de valyationo' dem too, 'cuz when I let up on P'laski, fust man
I see wuz dat Jim Sinkfiel', whar had warn' me hanged 'cuz he didn't
warn' pay me two dollars an' seventy-three cents. He wuz standin' dyah
lookin' on, 'joyin' hiself. I jes walk up to him an' I tolt him dat
he could pay it right den, or recommodate me to teck de res' o' de
hick'ries. He try to blunder out o' it, but all de folks know 'bout it
an' dee wuz wid me, an' b'fo' he knowed it some on 'em had he coat
off, an' had stretch him roun' de tree, an' tolt me to perceed. An' I
perceeded.
"I hadn't quite wo' out one hick'ry when he holler dat he'd borry de
money an' pay it; but I tolt him, nor; hick'ries had riz; dat I had
three mo', an' I warn' show him a man can meek a boy holler 'murder'
an' yit not kill him. An' dat I did, too: b'f o' I wuz done he hollered
'murder' jes natchel as P'laski."
The old fellow's countenance beamed with satisfaction at the
recollection of his revenge. I rewarded his narrative with a donation
which he evidently considered liberal; for he not only was profuse in
his thanks, but he assured me that the county of Hanover had produced
four people of whom he was duly proud--Henry Clay, Doctor Macon, myself,
and himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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