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Updated: May 31, 2025
One by one the negroes came forward and bared themselves to the waist children, strong men and old women. And then there was shrieking and wailing, begging and praying: it was like a leaf out of hell. Little Lizay was among the first of the condemned to present herself, for she felt an intolerable suspense as to what awaited her. The vague terror in her face was discerned by the dim light.
"The cotton we get now'll weigh heavy," she said: "it's got dew on it." "That's so," Alston assented, "but yer mus'n't talk ter me, Lizay. I's got ter put all my min' ter my wuck: I can't foad ter talk." "I can't nuther," said Lizay. "Wish I didn't pick so much cotton the fus' day: I's got ter keep on trottin' ter two hunderd an' fawty-seven." She selected two rows beside Alston's.
In the winters, after Christmas, which usually terminated the picking-season, Lizay was called to the place of head assistant of the plantation seamstress. Indeed, she did little field-service except in times of special pressure and during the quarter of cotton-picking.
Alston thought it was because she had missed her chance of transferring the usual quantity of cotton from his basket. The striking of Lizay had never seemed so abhorrent to him as on this night, now that there was estrangement between them. She was already humiliated in his sight, and to raise his hand against her was like striking a fallen foe.
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