After the
charges and specifications had been read (both men being stark naked),
the whipper "lit in" on Rube, who was the youngest. I do not think he
intended to hit as hard as he did, but, being excited himself, he
blistered Rube from head to foot. Thirty-nine lashes was always the
number. Now, three times thirty-nine makes one hundred and seventeen.
When he struck at all, one lick would make three whelps. When he had
finished Rube, the Captain commanding the whipping squad told him to lay
it on old man Brewer as light as the law would allow, that old man Brewer
was so old that he would die--that he could not stand it. He struck old
man Dave Brewer thirty-nine lashes, but they were laid on light. Old
Dave didn't beg and squall like Rube did. He j-e-s-t did whip old man
Dave. Like the old preacher who caught the bear on Sunday. They had him
up before the church, agreed to let him off if he did not again set his
trap. "Well," he said, "brethren, I j-e-s-t did set it."
RAIDING ON ROASTINGEARS
At this place General Bragg issued an order authorizing citizens to
defend themselves against the depredations of soldiers--to shoot them
down if caught depredating.
Well, one day Byron Richardson and myself made a raid on an old citizen's
roastingear patch.
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