The first pair of shoes that I recall wearing were wooden ones.
They had rough leather on the top, but the bottoms, which were about
an inch thick, were of wood. When I walked they made a fearful noise,
and besides this they were very inconvenient, since there was no
yielding to the natural pressure of the foot. In wearing them one
presented and exceedingly awkward appearance. The most trying ordeal
that I was forced to endure as a slave boy, however, was the wearing
of a flax shirt. In the portion of Virginia where I lived it was
common to use flax as part of the clothing for the slaves. That part
of the flax from which our clothing was made was largely the refuse,
which of course was the cheapest and roughest part. I can scarcely
imagine any torture, except, perhaps, the pulling of a tooth, that is
equal to that caused by putting on a new flax shirt for the first
time. It is almost equal to the feeling that one would experience if
he had a dozen or more chestnut burrs, or a hundred small pin-points,
in contact with his flesh. Even to this day I can recall accurately
the tortures that I underwent when putting on one of these garments.
The fact that my flesh was soft and tender added to the pain. But I
had no choice. I had to wear the flax shirt or none; and had it been
left to me to choose, I should have chosen to wear no covering.
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