She was a girl of palish yellow
colour. She was a trusty. She had been caught watching outside of a
house while two grown-up negro women went within to rob.
* * * * *
Monday morning "kangaroo court" was called ... that court which
prisoners hold, mimicking the legal procedure to which they grow so
accustomed during their lives. We were arraigned for trial--the charge
against us, that of "Breaking Into Jail."
The cotton thief served as prosecuting attorney. The negro youth in for
rape of one of his own colour,--the sergeant-at-arms; while the negro
preacher in for hog-stealing defended us ... and he did it so well that
we were let off with ten blows of the strap a-piece. We had no money to
be mulcted of, nor were we able to procure from friends, as the custom
is, funds for the buying of whiskey and tobacco.
* * * * *
In a few days Bud and I had settled down into the routine of jail-life.
Every morning we swept our cells, and all the prisoners took turns
sweeping the corridor. The fine for spitting on the floor was ten lashes
laid on hard. And each day before breakfast we soaked the seams of our
clothes in vile-smelling creosote to kill off the lice and nits. We had
no chance to bathe, and were given but little water to wash our face and
hands.
* * * * *
"I wonder what they are going to do with us?"
"Anything they please," answered Bud gloomily.
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