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I agreed with him as to the apparent inconsistency of this, and he proceeded:

“Well, suh, at las’ de trial come on; ‘twuz April-cote, an’ dee had me in the cote-house, an’ set me down in de cheer, wid de jury right in front o’ me, an’ de jedge settin’ up in he pulpit, lookin’ mighty aggrevated. Dat wuz de fus’ time I ‘gin to feel maybe I wuz sort o’ forgittin’ things, I had done been thinkin’ so much lately in jail ’bout de ole doctor–dat’s ole master–an’ Marth’ Ann, an’ all de ole times in Hanover, I wuz sort o’ misty as I wuz settin’ dyah in de cheer, an’ I jes heah sort o’ buzzin’ roun’ me, an’ I warn’ altogether certified dat I warn’ back in ole Hanover. Den I heah ’em say dat de ole jedge wuz tooken down an’ wuz ixpected to die, an’ dee ax me don’ I want a continuance. I don’ know what dat mean, ‘sep dee say I have to go back to jail, an’ sense I smell de fresh air I don’ warn’ do dat no mo’; so I tell ’em, ‘Nor; I ready to die.’ An’ den dee made me stan’ up; an’ dee read dat long paper to me ’bout how I done murder P’laski; dee say I had done whup him to death, an’ had done shoot him, an’ knock him in de haid, an’ kill him mo’ ways ‘n ‘twould ‘a’ teck to kill him ef he had been a cat. Lucindy wuz dyah. I had done had her gwine ’bout right smart meckin’ quiration for P’laski. At least she say she had,” he said, with a sudden reservation, and a glance of some suspicion toward his spouse. “An’ dee wuz a whole parecel o’ niggers stan’-in’ roun’ dyah, black as buzzards roun’ a ole hoss whar dyin’. An’ don’ you know, dat Jim Sinkfiel’ say he sutney hope dee would hang me, an’ all jes ‘cuz he owe’ me two dollars an’ seventy-three cents, whar he ain’ warn’ pay me!”

“Did you not have counsel?” I inquired.

“Council?”

“Yes–a lawyer.”

“Oh, nor, suh; dat is, I had council, but not a la’yar, edzactly,” he replied, with careful discrimination. “I had a some sort of a la’yer, but not much of a one. I had ixpected ole Jedge Thomas to git me off; ‘cuz he knowed me; he wuz a gent’man, like we is; but when he wuz tooken sick so providential I wouldn’ had no urrs; I lef’ it to Gord. De jedge ax me at de trial didn’ I had no la’yar, and I tell him nor, not dyah; an’ he ax me didn’ I had no money to get one; an’ I er-spon’ ‘Nor, I didn’ had none,’ although I had at dat time forty-three dollars an’ sixty-eight cents in a ole rag in my waistcoat linin’, whar I had wid me down in de sumac bushes, an’ whar I thought I better hole on to, an’ ‘ain’ made no mention on. So den de jedge ax me wouldn’ I had a young man dyah–a right tall young man; an’ I enform him: ‘Yes, suh. I didn’ reckon ‘twould hu’t none.’ So den he come an’ set by me an’ say he wuz my counsel.”

There was such a suggestion of contempt in his tone that I inquired if he had not done very well.

“Oh, yes, suh,” he drawled, slowly, “he done toler’ble well–considerin’. He do de bes’ he kin, I reckon. He holler an’ mix me up some right smart; but dee wuz too strong for him; he warn’ no mo’ to ’em ‘n wurrm is to woodpecker. Major Torm Woods’ de com-monwealph’s attorney, is a powerful la’yer; he holler so you kin heah him three mile. An’ ole Mis’ Twine wuz dyah, whar tell all ’bout de ring, an’ how impident I wuz to her dat day, an’ skeer her to death. An’ dat Jim Sinkfiel’, he wuz dyah, an’ tolt’ ’bout how I beat P’laski, an’ how he heah him ‘way out in main road, hollerin’ ‘murder.’ An’ dee had de gre’t bundle o’ hick’ries dyah, whar dee done fine in my house, an’ dee had so much evidence dat presney I ‘mos’ begin to think maybe I had done kilt P’laski sho ‘nough, an’ had disermembered it. An’ I thought ’bout Marth’ Ann an’ all de urr chil’ern, an’ I wondered ef dee wuz to hang me ef I wouldn’ fine her; an’ I got so I mos’ hoped dee would sen’ me. An den de jury went out, an’ stay some time, an’ come back an’ say I wuz guilty, an’ sen’ me to de Pen’tentiy for six years.”