arster's
plantation. How I did play roun' with de chilluns till I's big enough
for to wo'k. After I's 'bout 13, I jus' peddles roun' de house for 'bout
a year, den 'twarn't long till I hoes co'n and potatoes. Dere's six
slaves on dat place and I coul' beat dem all a-hoein'.

"De marster takes good care of us and sometimes give us money, 'bout
25c, and lets us go to town. Dat's when we was happy and celebrates.
We'uns spent all de money on candy and sweet drinks. Marster never
crowded us 'bout de wo'k, and never give any of us whuppin's. I's
sev'ral times needed a whuppin', but de marster never gives dis nigger
more'n a good scoldin'. De nearest I comes to gittin whupped, 'twas
once when I stole a plate of biscuits offen de table. I warn't in need
of 'em, but de devil in me caused me to do it. Marster and all de folks
comes in and sets down, and he asks for de biscuits, and I's under de
house and could hear 'em talk. De cook says, 'I's put de biscuits on de
table.' Marster says, 'If you did, de houn' got 'em.' Cook says, 'If a
houn' got 'em, 'twas a two-legged one, 'cause de plate am gone, too.'
I's made de mistake of takin' de plate. Marster give me de wors'
scoldin' I ever has and dat larned me a lesson.

"Not long after dat, Marster sol' my mammy to his brudder who lived in
Fort Worth. When dey took her away, I's powerful grieved. 'Bout dat time
de War started. De marster and his boy, Marster Ben, jined de army. De
marster was a sergeant. De women folks was proud of dere men folks, but
dey was powerful grieved. All de time de men's away, I could tell Missy
Elline and her mamma was worried. Dey allus sen's me for de mail, and
when I fotches it, dey run to meet me, anxious like, to open de letter,
and was skeert to do it. One day I fotches a letter and I could feel it
in my bones, dere was trouble in dat letter. Sure 'nough, dere was
trouble, heaps of it. It tells dat Marster Ben am kilt and dat dey was a
shippin' him home. All de ole folks, cullud and white, was cryin'. Missy
Elline, she fainted. When de body comes home, dere's a powerful big
funeral and after dat, dere's powerful weepin's and sadness on dat
place. De women folks don' talk much and no laughin' like 'fore. I
'members once de missy asks me to make a 'lasses cake. I says, 'I's got
no 'lasses.' Missy says, 'Don' say 'lasses, say molasses.' I says, 'Why
say molasses when I's got no 'lasses.' Dat was de fus' time Missy laugh
after de funeral.

"Durin' de