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.