y is goin' to be some trouble
take place right here in DeKalb an' I don't want any cullud person to
git hurt." De preacher rise to his feet, ever' Nigger in de house were
up, an' he dismiss 'em. (Mr. Henry Gully were Mr. John Gully's brother
an' a leadin' man o' de right.)

"'De town were a-millin' wid folks from ever'where. Chisolm an' dem done
got in de jail for safety an' Miss Cornelia Chisolm went back'ards an'
for'ards to de jail. Dey thought she were a-carryin' ammunition in her
clo'es[FN: clothes] to her father. Mr. McClendon--he were one of'
em--were wid her twict. He were on de right-hand side. Some b'lieved he
were de one dat killed Mr. John Gully. Dey tol' 'im dey'd burn his house
down if he stay in it, but if he'd go on to jail, dey'd give 'im a fair
trial.

"'Well, Mr. McClendon were shot down 'side Miss Cornelia. I seen him
when he fell on his face. De man dat fired de gun turn him over an' say,
"Well, us got' im." Miss Cornelia run on to de jail where de bounce[FN:
balance] o' de fam'ly were.

"'Dem outside say, "Boys, it'll never do! Dey aint all in dere yet.
Let's sen' to Scooba an' git Charlie Rosenbaum an' John Gilmore to come
help dey frien's. Dey b'longs to dat Chisolm crowd an' we want dem,
too."

"'So dey come. Somebody say, "Let's commence right here." I never seen a
battle b'fore, but I sho' seen one den. It were lak dis: Mr. Cal Hull
was de only democratic white frien' Mr. Rosenbaum had. He stood' twixt
his white democratic frien's an' Mr. Rosenbaum. He put his arms over Mr.
Rosenbaum an' say, "Boys, he's a frien' o' mine. If you kill him, you
kill me." Mr. Rosenbaum crawled over to de courthouse wall, an' squatted
down, an' stayed dere. Mr. Hull stood over 'im, pertectin' 'im. But Mr.
John Gilmore make for de jail an', when dey open de door for 'im, de
shootin' start. Right den were when Mr. Gilmore got his. Miss Cornelia
were struck in de wris'. It mortified an' after 'while she died from
it.'

"I know I aint tol' de sho' 'nough reason Mr. John Gully got killed.
Maybe de time done come for de truf to be tol'. Hope won't nobody think
hard o' me for tellin':

"Mr. John Gully had a bar-room an' a clerk. A white man by de name o'
Bob Dabbs walked[FN: clerked] b'hin' dat counter. Dis Nigger, Walter
Riley, I was a-tellin' you 'bout awhile ago, were a-courtin' a
yaller[FN: yellow] woman. (Dey warnt so many of 'em in dem days.) Mr.
Dabbs say, "Walter, if I ever kotch[FN: catch] you walkin wid