all de time. She had a old loom and a new
loom. My husband made de new loom for Old Miss. He was a carpenter and
he worked on outside jobs after he'd finished tasks for his marster. He
use to make all de boxes dey buried de white folks and de slaves in, on
de Hart and Golden Plantations. Dey was pretty as you see, too.

"I was a fiel' han' myself. I come up twix' de plow handles. I warn't de
fastes' one wid a hoe, but I didn't turn my back on nobody plowin'. No,
_mam_.

"My marster had over a thousand acres o' land. He was good to us. We had
plenty to eat, like meat and bread and vegetables. We raised eve'ything
on de plantation--wheat, corn, potatoes, peas, hogs, cows, sheep,
chickens--jes' eve'ything.

"All de clo'es was made on de plantation, too. Dey spun de thread from
cotton and wool, and dyed it and wove it. We had cutters and dem dat
done de sewin'. I still got de fus' dress my husband give me. Lemme show
it to you."

Gathering her shawl about her shoulders, and reaching for her stick, she
hobbled across the room to an old hand-made chest.

"My husband made dis chis' for me." Raising the top, she began to search
eagerly through the treasured bits of clothing for the "robe-tail
muslin" that had been the gift of a long-dead husband. One by one the
garments came out--her daughter's dress, two little bonnets all faded
and worn ("my babies' bonnets"), her husband's coat.

"And dat's my husband's mother's bonnet. It use to be as pretty a black
as you ever see. It's faded brown now. It was dyed wid walnut."

The chest yielded up old cotton cards, and horns that had been used to
call the slaves. Finally the "robe-tail muslin" came to light. The soft
material, so fragile with age that a touch sufficed to reduce it still
further to rags, was made with a full skirt and plain waist, and still
showed traces of a yellow color and a sprigged design.

"My husband was Kinchen Rogers. His marster was Mr. Bill Golden, and he
live 'bout fo' mile from where I stayed on de Hart plantation."

"Aunt Ferebe, how did you meet your husband?"

"Well, you see, us slaves went to de white folks church a-Sunday.
Marster, he was a prim'tive Baptis', and he try to keep his slaves from
goin' to other churches. We had baptisin's fust Sundays. Back in dem
days dey baptised in de creek, but at de windin' up o' freedom, dey dug
a pool. I went to church Sundays, and dat's where I met my husband. I
been ma'ied jes' one time. He de daddy o' a