FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170  
171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   188   189   190   191   192   193   194   195   >>   >|  
plication, that he was reminded of the old saying among sailors when they fall in with any indescribable thing at sea, that it was a "fidge-fadge, to pry the sun up with in cloudy weather." It was a large pedestal about six feet high, with a sort of platform at the base for persons to stand upon, supplied with two heavy rings about eight inches apart. It was surmounted by an apex, containing an iron shackle long enough for a sloop-of-war's best bower chain, and just, beneath it was a nicely-turned moulding. About three feet from the ground, and twelve inches from the pedestal, were two pieces of timber one above the other, with a space of some ten inches between them, the upper one set about five inches nearest the pedestal, also containing two rings, and both supported by posts in the ground. Above the whole was a framework, with two projecting timbers supplied with rings, and standing about fourteen inches in a diagonal direction above the big ring in the apex of the shaft. It was altogether a curious instrument, but it designated the civilization of the age, upon the same principle that a certain voyager who, on landing in a distant country, discovered traces of civilization in the decaying remains of an old gallows. He viewed the curious instrument for some time, and then turning to an old ragged negro, whose head and beard were whitened with the flour of age, said, "Well, old man, what do you call that?" "Why, massa, him great t'ing dat-what big old massa judge send buckra-man to get whip, so color foke laugh when 'e ketch 'im on de back, ca' bim; an' massa wid de cock-up hat on 'e head put on big vip jus' so," said the old negro. It was the whipping-post, where white men, for small thefts, were branded with ignominy and shame. "Are you a slave, old man?" inquired the Captain. The old man turned his head aside and pulled his ragged garments, as if shame had stung his feelings. "Do, good massa-old Simon know ye don'e belong here-give him piece of 'bacca," replied the hoary-headed veteran evidently intending to evade the question. The Captain divided his "plug" with him, and gave him a quarter to get more, but not to buy whiskey. "Tank-e, massa, tank-e; he gone wid ole Simon long time." "But you haven't answered my question; I asked you if you were a slave." "Ah! massa, ye don'e know him how he is, ah ha! ha! I done gone now. Massa Pringle own 'im once, but 'im so old now, nobody say I own 'im, an' o
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170  
171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   188   189   190   191   192   193   194   195   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

inches

 

pedestal

 
turned
 

ground

 

instrument

 
curious
 

civilization

 

question

 

ragged

 

Captain


supplied

 

whipping

 
buckra
 

Pringle

 
answered
 
belong
 
quarter
 

veteran

 

evidently

 

intending


headed

 

divided

 
replied
 

feelings

 

branded

 

ignominy

 
thefts
 

inquired

 

garments

 

pulled


whiskey

 

discovered

 

shackle

 

surmounted

 

twelve

 

pieces

 

timber

 
beneath
 

nicely

 

moulding


persons

 

indescribable

 
sailors
 
plication
 

reminded

 

platform

 

cloudy

 
weather
 

traces

 

decaying