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