all worldly possessions and freedom to
have plantation days back again. She owns her home and has a garden of
old-fashioned flowers, due to her magic "growing hand."

"I belonged to a preacher in Ca'lina," said Malinda. "A Baptis'
preacher. My fambly wasn't fiel' han's, dey wuz all house servants.
Marster wouldn't sell none o' his slaves. When he wanted to buy one,
he'd buy de whole fambly to keep fum having 'em separated."

Malinda and her sister belonged to the young girls. "Whar'ever da young
Mistises visited, we went right erlong. My own mammy tuk long trips wid
ole Mistis to de Blue Ridge Mountings and sometimes over de big water."
Malinda said the slaves danced to "quills," a home-made reed instrument.
"My mammy wuz de bes' dancer on de planteshun," asserted the old woman.
"She could dance so sturdy, she could balance a glass of water on her
head and never spill a drap!"

[AMELIA]

Amelia, like many of the old slaves in Augusta to-day, came from South
Carolina.

"I put on a hoopskirt one time," she said. "I wanted to go to church wid
a hoop on. I such a lil' gal, all de chillun laugh at me, playin' lady.
I take it off and hide it in de wood."

Amelia remembered her young mistresses with affection. "Dey wuz so good
to me," she said, "dey like to dress me up! I was a lil' gal wid a tiny
wais'. Dey put corsets on me and lace me up tight, and then dey take off
all dey medallion and jewelry and hang 'em roun' my neck and put long
sash on me. I look pretty to go to dance. When I git back, I so tired I
thow myself on de bed and sleep wid dat tight corset on me!"

FOUR SLAVES INTERVIEWED
by
MAUDE BARRAGAN, EDITH BELL LOVE, RUBY LORRAINE RADFORD

ELLEN CAMPBELL, 1030 Brayton Street, Augusta, Ga., Born 1846.

Ellen Campbell lives in a little house in a garden behind a picket
fence. Ellen is a sprightly, erect, black woman ninety years old. Beady
little eyes sparkled behind her glasses as she talked to us. Her manner
is alert, her mind is very keen and her memory of the old days very
clear. Though the temperature was in the high nineties she wore two
waists, and her clothes were clean and neatly patched. There was no
headcloth covering the fuzzy grey wool that was braided into innumerable
plaits.

She invited us into her tiny cabin. The little porch had recently been
repaired, while the many flowers about the yard and porch gave evidence
of constant and loving care to this place which had been bough