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Well
,
by
and
by
somebody
said
Sherburn
ought
to
be
lynched
.
In
about
a
minute
everybody
was
saying
it
;
so
away
they
went
,
mad
and
yelling
,
and
snatching
down
every
clothes-line
they
come
to
to
do
the
hanging
with
.
THEY
swarmed
up
towards
Sherburn
's
house
,
a-whooping
and
raging
like
Injuns
,
and
everything
had
to
clear
the
way
or
get
run
over
and
tromped
to
mush
,
and
it
was
awful
to
see
.
Children
was
heeling
it
ahead
of
the
mob
,
screaming
and
trying
to
get
out
of
the
way
;
and
every
window
along
the
road
was
full
of
women
's
heads
,
and
there
was
nigger
boys
in
every
tree
,
and
bucks
and
wenches
looking
over
every
fence
;
and
as
soon
as
the
mob
would
get
nearly
to
them
they
would
break
and
skaddle
back
out
of
reach
.
Lots
of
the
women
and
girls
was
crying
and
taking
on
,
scared
most
to
death
.
They
swarmed
up
in
front
of
Sherburn
's
palings
as
thick
as
they
could
jam
together
,
and
you
could
n't
hear
yourself
think
for
the
noise
.
It
was
a
little
twenty-foot
yard
.
Some
sung
out
"
Tear
down
the
fence
!
tear
down
the
fence
!
"
Then
there
was
a
racket
of
ripping
and
tearing
and
smashing
,
and
down
she
goes
,
and
the
front
wall
of
the
crowd
begins
to
roll
in
like
a
wave
.
Just
then
Sherburn
steps
out
on
to
the
roof
of
his
little
front
porch
,
with
a
double-barrel
gun
in
his
hand
,
and
takes
his
stand
,
perfectly
ca
'm
and
deliberate
,
not
saying
a
word
.
The
racket
stopped
,
and
the
wave
sucked
back
.
Sherburn
never
said
a
word
--
just
stood
there
,
looking
down
.
The
stillness
was
awful
creepy
and
uncomfortable
.
Sherburn
run
his
eye
slow
along
the
crowd
;
and
wherever
it
struck
the
people
tried
a
little
to
out-gaze
him
,
but
they
could
n't
;
they
dropped
their
eyes
and
looked
sneaky
.
Then
pretty
soon
Sherburn
sort
of
laughed
;
not
the
pleasant
kind
,
but
the
kind
that
makes
you
feel
like
when
you
are
eating
bread
that
's
got
sand
in
it
.
Then
he
says
,
slow
and
scornful
:
"
The
idea
of
YOU
lynching
anybody
!
It
's
amusing
.
The
idea
of
you
thinking
you
had
pluck
enough
to
lynch
a
MAN
!
Because
you
're
brave
enough
to
tar
and
feather
poor
friendless
cast-out
women
that
come
along
here
,
did
that
make
you
think
you
had
grit
enough
to
lay
your
hands
on
a
MAN
?
Why
,
a
MAN
'S
safe
in
the
hands
of
ten
thousand
of
your
kind
--
as
long
as
it
's
daytime
and
you
're
not
behind
him
.
"
Do
I
know
you
?
I
know
you
clear
through
was
born
and
raised
in
the
South
,
and
I
've
lived
in
the
North
;
so
I
know
the
average
all
around
.
The
average
man
's
a
coward
.
In
the
North
he
lets
anybody
walk
over
him
that
wants
to
,
and
goes
home
and
prays
for
a
humble
spirit
to
bear
it
.
In
the
South
one
man
all
by
himself
,
has
stopped
a
stage
full
of
men
in
the
daytime
,
and
robbed
the
lot
.
Your
newspapers
call
you
a
brave
people
so
much
that
you
think
you
are
braver
than
any
other
people
--
whereas
you
're
just
AS
brave
,
and
no
braver
.
Why
do
n't
your
juries
hang
murderers
?
Because
they
're
afraid
the
man
's
friends
will
shoot
them
in
the
back
,
in
the
dark
--
and
it
's
just
what
they
WOULD
do
.
"
So
they
always
acquit
;
and
then
a
MAN
goes
in
the
night
,
with
a
hundred
masked
cowards
at
his
back
and
lynches
the
rascal
.
