The fat lady and the midgets rode out together in
a load of cotton, and when they got to the house they had to be picked
like ducks, and they looked as though they had been tarred and
feathered.
The planter gave us a fine luncheon of fried chicken and corn pone, and
cider, and pa acted as the boss of the circus folks, while the planter
and his family, with about 100 negroes, passed things around. They all
seemed to be interested in seeing how much stuff the giant and the fat
lady could hold without putting up sideboards to keep the food from
falling off. If pa hadn't told the negroes not to feed the fat lady and
the giant any more, there would have been two circus funerals next day.
I got acquainted with a boy that was the planter's son, and while the
rest were eating and drinking the boy showed me a pack of hounds that
are kept for trailing criminals and negroes who have looked sassy at
white women. The trouble with negroes is that they all look alike, and
if one commits a crime they can prove an alibi, 'cause every last negro
will swear that at the time the crime was committed the suspected man
was attending a prayer meeting, so they have to have hounds that can be
taken to the place where the crime was committed, and they find the
negro's track, and they follow it till they tree him.
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