United States or Brazil ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"NEGROES WANTED. The Subscriber is desirous of hiring 50 of 60 first rate Negro Men. "LABORERS WANTED. One hundred able bodied men are wanted. The hands will be required to be delivered in Halifax by the owners. Apply to SHIELD & WALKE." From the "Lynchburg Virginian," Dec. 13, 1838. "40 NEGRO MEN. The subscribers wish to hire for the next year 40 NEGRO MEN. LANGHORNE, SCRUGGS & COOK."
"You mean the middle finger, don't you?" queried Monty Scruggs. "That's more natural way of standing." "No, I mean the little finger," asserted Si. "But the middle finger is more natural," persisted Monty. "You can't stand straight with your little finger at the seam. See here."
The hope that my innocence would protect me, which I had cherished until now, vanished, for I well knew that drunken cut-throats were blind to reason, and rather offended than attracted by innocence. Order was soon restored, and my friend Mr. Scruggs was called to the chair. In this I saw a ray of hope.
"Look here, Jim Humphreys," grumbled Monty Scruggs, "when he told you to draw your stomach in he didn't mean for you to stick your hips out till you bumped me over into the next Township. I've got to have room to stand here, as well as you." "Silence in the ranks," commanded Si. "Draw your stomachs in, put your little fingers down to the seams of your pantaloons "
"Scruggs, do as I say, without no words," said Si, and then Monty's face took on an expression of determination to carry the matter to a higher court. "Now, keep your faces straight to the front, and at the command 'Right dress! turn your eyes, without moving your heads, until you kin see the buttons on the breast of the second man to the right. 'Right dress!"
"He run this whole country, and had Injuns to burn, though he generally preferred to burn them that didn't belong to his church." "Roasted his neighbors instid o' his friends in a heathen sort of a way," continued Shorty. "What was his name?" inquired Monty Scruggs. "John Ross." "Humph, not much of a name," said Monty in a disappointed tone, for he had been an assiduous reader of dime novels.
I'm just as much your commandin' officer as I ever was." "How can you be a commanding officer, when everybody else bosses you about?" persisted the argumentative Monty Scruggs. "Everybody that comes near you orders you around, just the same as you used to us, and you mind 'em. That ain't no way for a commanding officer. We don't want anybody bossing us that everybody else bosses."
"There, you see the nonsense o' giving you as much rations as the others," suggested Alf Russell. "You can't pack 'em, and you wouldn't need 'em if you did pack 'em." "What business is it of yours. Mister Russell, I'd like to know," asked Monty Scruggs, "what he does with his rations. His rations are his rights, and he's entitled to 'em. It's nobody's business what use a man makes of his rights."
"Who'll be the Jim Humphreys and Gid Mackals this time?" said Monty Scruggs, looking at the tangled mass of tree-tops. "Can you see any path through this abatis, Sergeant?" nervously asked Harry Joslyn. "No, Harry," said Si, kindly and encouragingly. "But we'll find some way to git through. There's probably a path that we kin strike. Stay close by me, and we'll try our best."
recited Monty Scruggs. "Gracious, I'm hit!" "Where?" asked Si, running up to him. "Through my leg," answered Monty. "Kin you walk?" "I guess so." "Well, make your way back to the cars and git in and lay down." "Not much," answered Monty determinedly. "It don't hurt much, and I'm going to stay and see this thing out. I can tie it up with my handkerchief."
Word Of The Day