. He told her to make up bread
dough real sort of stiff. He made a mask of it. Cut holes for their
eyes, nose holes and mouths, so you could feed them, you see. He told
mother to leave that on till it got hard as a rock. Then still leave it
on till it crack and come off by itself. Nobody what ever saw their
faces would believe how bad they had been burnt. Only 'round the edges
where the dough didn't cover was there any scars. Dr. Deuell only
charged my father $50.00 apiece for that grand work on my sister and
brother.

_Yes ma'am_, I'll tell you how I come to speak what you call good
English. First place, my mother and father was brought up in families
where they heard good speech. Slaves what lived in the family didn't
talk like cottonfield hands. My parents sure did believe in education.

The first free schools in Little Rock were opened by the Union for
colored children. They brought young white ladies for teachers. They had
Sunday School in the churches on Sunday. In a few years they had colored
teachers come. One is still living here in Little Rock. I wish you would
go see her. She is 90 years old now. She founded the Wesley Chapel here.
On her fiftieth anniversary my club presented her a gold medal and had
"Mother Wesley" engraved on it. Her name is Charlotte E. Stevens. She
has the first school report ever put out in Little Rock. It was in the
class of 1869. Two of my sisters were graduated from Philander Smith
College here in Little Rock and had post graduate work in Fisk
University in Nashville, Tennessee. My brothers and sisters all did well
in life. Allene married a minister and did missionary work. Cornelia was
a teacher in Dallas, Texas. Mary was a caterer in Hot Springs. Clarice
went to Colorado Springs, Colorado and was a nurse in a doctor's office.
Jimmie was the preacher, as I told you. Gus learned the drug business
and Willie got to be a painter. Our adopted sister, Molly, could do
anything, nurse, teach, manage a hotel. Yes, our parents always insisted
we had to go to school. It's been a help to me all my life. I'm the only
one now living of all my brothers and sisters.

Well ma'am, about how we lived all since freedom; it's been good till
these last years. After I married my present husband in 1879, he worked
in the Missouri Pacific railroad shops. He was boiler maker's helper.
They called it Iron Mountain shops then, though. 52 years, 6 months and
24 days he worked there. In 1922, on big strike, a