De boy sez, 'Robert Walsh, sir.
What for did you done go an' shoot at my army?
"Case I hates de Yankees an' I wush dat dey wus daid in a pile," de Reb sez, an' laughs.
"De Gen'l done got his dander up now, an' he yells," 'Carry de Reb sommers out'r sight o' de ladies an' hang him.'
De Reb laughs an' sez, 'kin' o' you sir,' an' he waves goodbye ter de crowd an' dey carried him off a laughin' fit ter kill.
Dey hanged him on a ole oak tree in de Lovejoy grove, whar de Governor's mansion am now standin' an' dey buried him under de tree.
Way atter de war dey moved his skileton ter Oakwood Cemetery an' put him up a monument. His grave wus kivered wid flowers, an' de young ladies cry.
He died brave do', an' he kep' laughin' till his neck broke. I wus dar an' seed hit, furdermore dar wus a gang of white ladies dar, so dey might as well a hanged him on de Capitol Square.
De Yankees wus good ter me, but hit shore wus hard ter git a job do', an' so I ain't fared as good as I did' fore de war.
Mr. Buck wus good ter us. Sometimes he'd lose his temper an' cuss, den he'd say right quick, 'God forgive me, I pray.' Dat man believed in 'ligion. When de oberseer, George Harris, 'ud start ter beat a slave dey larned ter yell fer Mr. Buck an' make lak dey wus gittin' kilt.