The judge looked toward the prisoner with a scowl as he observed, "What's dat white man's name?"
"Ole Marser's named arter me," the prisoner humbly replied.
"Ugh! Ugh!" said the judge "Dats a sarcumstance agin you. I'm ergwine to put yu whey dere haint ergwine to be no mo sturbance betwixt yu and de horgs. Dis heer jedgment is ergwine to run agin yu twell dat ar horg is fotched into de kote; und hit is ergwine to run in de name of de state."
"Grate Jarryko!" exclaimed Joshua excitedly from among the bystanders, "dat dere jedgment ez same ez er surcle in de warter, hit haint got no eend, Grate King! dat secesh nigger hez dun und got hissef shot up forever und all dun and dun, by und twixt him und a piney woods rooter that is dun and woured up fo de bellion fell."
"Dis kote is gwine to rejourn till to morrow mornin. Make de pocklemashun, officer."
As the old negro judge by the aid of his staff was shuffling out of the court house the Colonel was prompted to ask him why he had been rudely taken from his home and brought as a prisoner before him. The old negro looked at the Colonel in a furtive way as he replied irritatingly. "De kote had to bate de trap wid one warmint ter catch anudder one." And thus the mountebanks and harlequins of these outrageous times were compounding dynamite in their laboratories that would ere long explode under their feet.