I myself got a piece of paper from Josiah’s account book, and I had a pencil with me, and I copied this inscription, so’s to let Thomas J. see it.
It wuz dretful readin’. As History held up her torch to light me as I writ it down, mournin’ weeds seemed to wrop her round and droop over her forward, and her face looked cold and pale and awful out from under them weeds. It read as follers—
And I thought, I can tell you, as I read it of how Miss Argyll felt and Miss Renwick and the children, for though it is a good ways back, it hurt jest as bad to have your head cut off then as it duz now, and hearts of loved ones who wuz left ached jest as bad.
It read as follers—
“From May 27, 1661, that the most noble Marquise of Argyll was beheaded, to the 17th of February, 1668, that Mr. James Renwick suffered, were one way or other murdered or destroyed for the same cause about 18,000, of whom were executed in Edinburgh about 100 of noblemen, gentlemen, ministers, and other noble martyrs for Jesus Christ.”
Al Faizi’s face wuz a deep study as he stood there.
And he sez to Martin, who had sauntered up and wuz a-lookin’ round, with his hands in his pantaloons pockets—
Sez Al Faizi—“This war was between Presbyterians and Catholics?”
“Yes,” sez Martin.
“Both of these religious sects thought they were right?”