I have said that I loved the business and acquired the skill very early, and this enabled me to pass my examination creditably, and to be accepted as a capable rider, but I passed through some very severe treatment before reaching that point.

This white man who trained horses for Col.  Singleton was named Boney Young; he had a brother named Charles, who trained for the colonel’s brother, John Singleton.  Charles was a good man, but Boney our trainer, was as mean as Charles was good; he could smile in the face of one who was suffering the most painful death at his hands.

One day, about two weeks after Boney Young and mother had the conflict, he called me to him, as though he were in the pleasantest mood; he was singing.  I ran to him as if to say by action, I will do anything you bid me, willingly.  When I got to him he said, “Go and bring me a switch, sir.”  I answered, “yes, sir,” and off I went and brought him one; then he said, “come in here, sir;” I answered, “yes, sir;” and I went into a horse’s stall, but while I was going in a thousand thoughts passed through my mind as to what he wanted me to go into the stall for, but when I had got in I soon learned, for he gave me a first-class flogging.

A day or to after that he called me in the same way, and I went again, and he sent me for a switch.  I brought him a short stubble that was worn out, which he took and beat me on the head with.  Then he said to me, “Go and bring me a switch, sir;” I answered “Yes, sir;” and off I went the second time, and brought him one very little better than the first; he broke that over my head also, saying, “Go and bring me a switch, sir;” I answered, “Yes, sir,” and off I went the third time, and brought one which I supposed would suit him.  Then he said to me, “Come in here, sir.”  I answered, “Yes, sir.”  When I went into the stall, he told me to lie down, and I stooped down; he kicked me around for a while, then, making me lie on my face, he whipped me to his satisfaction.

That evening when I went home to father and mother, I said to them, “Mr. Young is whipping me too much now, I shall not stand it, I shall fight him.”  Father said to me, “You must not do that, because if you do he will say that your mother and I advised you to do it, and it will make it hard for your mother and me, as well as for yourself.  You must do as I told you, my son:  do your work the best you can, and do not say anything.”  I said to father, “But I don’t know what I have done that he should whip me; he does not tell me what wrong I have done, he simply calls me to him and whips me when he gets ready.”  Father said, “I can do nothing more than to pray to the Lord to hasten the time when these things shall be done away; that is all I can do.”  When mother had stripped me and looked at the wounds that were upon me she burst into tears, and said, “If he were not so small I would not mind it so much; this will break his constitution; I am going to master about it, because I know he will not allow Mr. Young to treat this child so.”