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Updated: May 1, 2025
I was at such a gathering in the lower part of the State, where Jack Agery, a noted plantation orator, was holding forth, denouncing the Democracy and rallying the faithful. He was a man of great natural ability and bristling with pithy anecdote. From a rude platform half a dozen candles flickered a weird and unsteady glare.
"I don't hear nothin' else, day and night, but 'back home on the Wabash. I've bin on the Wabash, an' I don't want to never see the measly, muddy, agery ditch agin'. Why, they have the ager so bad out there that it shakes the buttons off a man's clothes, the teeth out of his head, the horns off the cows. An' as for milk-sickness." "Shorty!" thundered Si, "stop right there.
The Ku Klux, disguised and pistol belted, very soon appeared, but not before Agery had given out, and they were singing with fervor that good old hymn "Amazing Grace, How Sweet It Sounds to Save a Wretch Like Me." The visitors stood till the verse was ended, when Agery, self-controlled, called on Brother Primus to next lead in prayer.
Don't be bothering us about that corn-cracking, agery crowd." "Where'd you leave your regiment, you chuckle-headed straggler?" "You were so rattled you couldn't tell which way they went." "Where's your gun?" "Where's your cartridge-box and haversack?" "Where's your cap?" "You were so scared you'd 'a' throwed away your head if it'd been loose!" "Clear out from here, you dead-beat."
Agery as a spellbinder was at his best, when a hushed whisper, growing into a general alarm, announced that members of the Ku Klux, an organization noted for the assassination of Republicans, were coming. Agery, a born leader, in commanding tones, told the meeting to be seated and do as he bid them.
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