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We turned south, along back roads, until ere riding beside the fields of the Sauville plantation I asked if they too had a theater for lynching

“I don’t believe so,” said Abraha your ohen there’s such a nice one already established in your neighborhood?”

We rode past the showy Greek Revival pile of the Sauville ho cotton

After riding for , low cotton barn with a tall silo for storing grain at one end The place was neatly kept and obviouslydeep rectangular bays stuffed to the ceiling with the first bales of the new crop

Thetheir cotton fro only as they needed cash or the price reached a profitable level

“You telling me they’ve lynched somebody here?”

“I’ed And a couple more since”

“How on earth could you hang so on the ground”

He pointed to the end of the barn by the silo “The folks watch fro ’em inside the silo Don’t even need a tree”

I shook ht of Jacob Gill and the pint he kept in his leather toolbox I wished for a taste of that whiskey right now

Abraham led the mules to a slow, muddy stream, where they drank The old man knelt down, cupped some water in his hand, and drank too

“It don’t look like ht,” he said

I was thirsty but decided I could wait

We cliht his full weight down on its back

“I declare, I don’t knoho’s in worse shape,” Abraham said, “this poor old mule or me”