I soon perceived that the hands were turned up for punishment; but the nature of the offence I had yet to learn:  nor did I know whether any order had been given to strip.  With the boys this would have been supererogatory, as they were quite naked.  The female children had on cotton chemises, which they slowly and reluctantly rolled up, until they had gathered them close under their armpits.

The old man then ordered the eldest boy to begin his Pater Noster; and simultaneously the whipper-in elevated his cowskin by way of encouragement.  The poor boy watched it, out of the corner of his eye, and then began “Pattery nobstur, qui, qui, qui—­(here he received a most severe lash from the cowskin bearer)—­is in silly,” roared the boy, as if the continuation had been expelled from his mouth by the application of external force in an opposite direction—­“sancty fisheter nom tum, adveny regnum tum, fi notun tas, ta, ti, tu, terror,” roared the poor fellow, as he saw the lash descending on his defenceless back—­

“Terror indeed,” thought I.

“Pannum nossum quotditty hamminum da nobs holyday, e missy nobs debitty nossa si cut nos demittimissibus debetenibas nossimus e, ne, nos hem-duckam in, in, in temptationemum, sed lillibery nos a ma—­ma—­” Here a heavy lash brought the very Oh! that was “caret” to complete the sentence.

My readers are not to suppose that the rest of the class acquitted themselves with as much ability as their leader, who, compared to them, was perfectly erudite; the others received a lash for every word, or nearly so.  The boys were first disposed of, in order, I suppose, that they might have the full benefit of the applicant’s muscles; while the poor girls had the additional pleasure of witnessing the castigation until their turn came; and that they were aware of what awaited them was evident, from their previous arrangement and disposition of dress, at the commencement of the entertainment.  The girls accordingly came up one after another to say their Ave Maria, as more consonant to their sex; but I could scarcely contain my rage when the rascally cowskin was applied to them, or my laughter when, smarting under its lash, they exclaimed, “Benedicta Mulieribus,” applying their little hands with immoderate pressure to the afflicted part.

I could have found in my heart to have wrested the whip out of the hands of the young negro, and applied it with all my might to him, and his old villain of a master, and father of these poor children, as I soon found he was.  My patience was almost gone when the second girl received a lash for her “Plena Gratia.”  She screamed, and danced, and lifted up her poor legs in agony, rubbing herself on her “west” side, as the Philadelphia ladies call it, with as much assiduity as if it had been one of those cases in which friction is prescribed by the faculty.

But the climax was yet to come.  A grand stage effect was to be produced before the falling of the curtain.  The youngest girl was so defective in her lesson, that not one word of it could be extracted from her, even by the cowskin; nothing but piercing shrieks, enough to make my heart bleed, could the poor victim utter.  Irritated at the child’s want of capacity to repeat by rote what she could not understand, the old man darted from his seat, and struck her senseless to the ground.