The Press., 1892-03-24
DISAPPOINTING AN EDITOR.

6rn weekly paper, when u tcioSraM WdS handed him, and after he had read it he handed it to me. It was from town seven miles away, and read: We have 1 caught the nigger; he hangs tonight. Boys will wait for you to come over."
 "You see," exclaimed the editor, stthey have got the nigger who shot at Col Dun- bar, over in Cassville, and they won't wait to take the law on him. reckon I'll have to go over, and I'd like to have you go along"
 I was agreed, and 8 horse and buggy were brought around and we set out. When we reached the town it was about g o'clock in the evening, and the prisoner was being guarded in vacant room. There were about seventy-fve excited citizens around the place, and 8 noosed rope had already been. thrown over the limb of shade tree near by. We were duly welcomed, and were accorded the privilege of an interview with the prison CT. We found him in a somewhat anxious frame of mind, but cool enough to answer all questions.
 "Now, then," began the editor, as he pulled out his note- book, 'what name do you go by, and what part of the country do you hail from?"
 "Look heah," replied the man, "doan' yo' folks make no mistake about dis I'ze not de pusson yo' want. I nebber dun shot at nobody. My name am Peter White, an I'ze dun libed in Glendale ober ten y'ars. Everybody ober dar knows me-" 4.N
 "Have you made any mistake ?" asked the editor of the constable.
 "Why, I reckon not. They fetched him in and said he was the nigger we wanted. Can't be no mistake, of co'se. !"
 "Yo' jest send to Mars James, Mars Taylor, Mars Thompson, or anybody else ober dar, an dey'll tell yo' all about me, protested the man.
 "Do you deny shooting at Col. Dun bar? ?"
 "Of co'se I does. didn't eben h'ar about it. was huntin' hogs in de woods fur Mars John Greenfield when dey cotch- ed me. Doan' you dun make no mistake. 7"
 Ten minutes later all were fairly satis- fled that mistake had been made. Then a Glendale man arrived and settled the matter. They had got the wrong man.
 'Look here, boy" said the editor, when the truth came out, "I've driven seven miles to see you lynched." s'Yes, sah, but can't help it.''
 "These men spent all day to get you, and the rope is all ready"
 "I know it, but I'ze innocent"
 Haven't you ever killed man, stolen g mule, or fired gun? Come, now, own Fup like man" {" ass s''''z
 "Nebber, sah,'' firmly replied the pris- oner.
 Don't you remember of ever doing anything for which you ought to be hung?" ... ....
 ''No, sah, can't"
 "This, you must know, Is great dis appointment to me and ny friend here. We shall have our drive of fourteen miles for nothing, and was intending to make at least two. columns of the affair. It seems too bad" "Yes, sah; but nebber dun it. D And you protest against being hung ?" "I does, sah."
 "You must have at least done some thing for which you ought to be switched stolen cotton, run of hog, or some thing of that sort ?"
 No, sah; /; nebber did"
 Its g drive of fourteen miles, you know, and the roads are bad"
 "Yes, sah; but you'll hey to 'scuso me dis time."
 "Well," said the editor, as we got up to go, "I'm sorry things have turned out this way, but can't see that anybody is to blame."
 We got into the buggy and. started back. We had gone mile or So before the silence was broken. Then the editor said:
 seThat just shows you how internally obstinate nigger can be when he makes up his mind to it and wants to get the 1 better of white man," .:~ l