come down to get the
gopher wood to build the war ships. Old mistis had a son and a daughter
and we all played together and slep together. My white folks learned me
my A B C's.

"They come and got me and carried me to Richmond--that's where they sold
em. Sold five of us in one bunch. Sold my two brothers in New
Orleans--Robert and Jesse. Never seed them no more. Never seed my mother
again after I was sold.

"Yes, chile, I was here in Arkansas when the war started, so you know I
been here a long time.

"I was here when they fit the last battle in Pine Bluff. They called it
Marmaduke's Battle and they fit it on Sunday morning. They took the old
cotehouse for a battery and throwed up cotton bales for a breastworks.
They fit that Sunday and when the Yankees started firin' the Rebels went
back to Texas or wherever they come from.

"When we heard the Yankees was comin' we went out at night and hid the
silver spoons and silver in the toilet and buried the meat. After the
war was over and the Yankees had gone home and the jayhawkers had went
in--then we got the silver and the meat. Yes, honey, we seed a time--we
seed a time. I ain't grumblin'--I tell em I'm havin' a wusser time now
than I ever had.

"Yankees used to call me a 'know nothin' cause I wouldn't tell where
things was hid.

"Yes, chile, I'm this way--I like everbody in this world. I never was a
mother, but I raised everbody else's chillun. I ain't nothin' but a old
mammy. White and black calls me mamma. I'll answer at the name.

"I was married twice. My last husband and me lived together fifty years.
He was a preacher. My first husband, the old rascal--he was so mean to
me I had to get rid of him.

"Yes, I been here so long. I think the younger generation is goin' the
downward way. They ain't studyin' nothin' but wickedness. Yes, honey,
they tell me the future generation is goin' a do this and goin' a do
that, and they ain't done nothin'. And God don't like it.

"My white folks comes to see me and say as long as they got bread, I got
it.

"I went to school the second year after surrender. I can read but I
ain't got no glasses now. I want you to see this letter my mother sent
me in 1867. My baby sister writ it. Yes, honey, I keeps it for
remembrance.

"Don't know nothin' funny that happened 'ceptin stealin' my old master's
company's hoss and runnin' a race. White chillun too. Them as couldn't
ride sideways ridin' straddle. Better _not_ ride Rob Roy--that