The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-09-22

good one. 1t struck the right spot, dost
think so, brother horsey?'
And behind this wagon to which the biped
beast of burden is chained together with
the sorriest of jades, roams and runs and
struggles on crutches, when necessary, a
vast multitude. yelping and bowling,
screaming and whistling. Some laugh, 9TH
ers sing, still others grunt with satisfac-
ton, and all do their utmost to incite the
burly ruffian on the wagon to greater cruel
ty. They don't like the monotonous sing
song of his whip-one lash for the horse.
another for the w~oman-they clamor for
crescendo! Slow music doesn't please them,
for the murderous instincts of the days
when they lived in trees are once more
uppermostin their hearts.
. The thirst for blood, 1 am ashamed to
say, seems to animate particularly boys
and young girls. To them the tragedy en-
acted is as good as a circus. Every now
and then some lad or girl runs up TO the
bleeding woman to vomit words of con-
tempt n hatred, threats and reproaches
into her scared face.
Plenty of women in the procession; they
couldn't run faster, couldn't stick closer, if
a new hat or frock was to be seen. Their
faces are red with excitement, while their
eyes CLEAN with pleasure and malice.
Men, too. They don't quite agree with
the gorilla, but possess neither sense Of
justice, nor chivalry, neither love for fair
play, nor enough respect for their mothers.
sisters and wives to interfere. They con-
tent themselves with abusing and vilifying
ing the owner of the wagon, steed and
voman: call him the filthiest names in our,
or any other, language; they might as we'll
propose to canonize him for all he cares.
Now and again he turns upon his wordy
! antagonists and laughs, opening his mouth
| still further and showing his teeth still
more. After that he lets the knout fly with
double impetus, the lash rends the air with
a whiz and buzz-the horse has nothing to
fear this time-the nail-spiked strip of raw
leather wraps itself around the woman's
quivering shoulders, catches her under her
arms. All, such a cry of agony as L heard.
l cannot forget it in a thousand years.
And the blood spurts high. 1t spurts on
the white blouse of her torturer. He licks
it up and grins.
OF the multitudes Of witnesses, the poor
little horse alone seems to Iecoil at such
savageness. He halts, and It looks for a
moment as if he would refuse to go on, but
a terrific blow from the butt end of the
7hip dissipates the thoughts of protest that
might linger in the animals brain. The
horse proceeds, forcing the woman to drag
still further along on the perambulating
whipping-post.
1 look at the horse. AS he passes he
shakes his head. M 1 know he is saying
to himself: What a disgrace to be an ami
NAL, which the biped race may force to
participate in any crime it may conceive
CT"
And then / look at the heavens-the firm
ament is clear and blue and serene-not a
cloud anywhere, not a shadow of a cloud.
And the sun, too. looks on unblushingly.
/ repeat, the above is gospel truth
more's the pity! 1 witnessed the scene my
self, sitting at the window of a hut while
illness paralyzed my limbs. They call ii
The Show-and it is a peculiar amusement
thereabouts, hallowed by tradition. The
state winks at it, the church closes its eyes
against it.
a husband who discovers his wife's adult
cry may yoke her with his cattle for TWEEN
ty miles and lash her as much as his cat
tie. If he exceeds the run by a yard only,
or if he doesn't divide the punishment
equally between woman and beast, he is
liable to arrest and to a fine of fifteen CO.
] pecks. the value of a half pint of %schnapps