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a Turk; a Kabyle in Algeria thinks he has some chance of getting justice from a Gaul; a Tartar in Kazan imagines he has some chance of getting justice from a Muscovite; but a Negro in Texas never dreams of getting justice from a Conservative judge, and a White man in Texas never leaves the duty of revenge to a Republican judge.
In case of a collision, there is not much difference in the mode of settling matters.
Whether fair or dusky, men whose friends have been injured by the other party are ready to enact the parts of sheriffs, jurors, judges, and hangmen, on the shortest notice.
Take the latest case, as an example.
On Sunday last, Zete Fly, a stalwart Negro, trudging on the road near Moulton, a village in Gonzales County, passed a White boy, named Dick Dixon, who was hardly fourteen years of age. Some words arose.
Fly whipt out his pistol, fired at the lad, tearing his arm from elbow to shoulder, and left him bleeding in the road.
Tom Dixon, elder brother of the boy, ran after Zete, and finding him shut up in his shanty, challenged him to come out and fight.
Instead of coming out to fight Zete barred and logged his door.
“Come out!”
cried Tom. Zete skulked behind
1875.
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