es. They raised their two sons, Henry and George, the
same way.

There was so many of us children I don't remember all the names. Three
of the boys was named after good southern gentlemen who soldiered in
the War. Price, Lee and Beaugard. Beaugard is me. Proud of that name
just like I'm proud of the Master's name.

My folks named Patrick and Harriett. Mother worked round the house And
father was the field boss. They was close by the Master all the time.

The plantation was down in Craig County, Texas. Nine hundred acre it
was. They raise everything, but mostly corn and cotton. Big times when
come the harvest. Master fix up a cotton gin right on the place. It
was an old-fashioned press. Six horses run it with two boys tromping
down the cotton with their feets.

In the fall time was the best of all. Come cotton picking time, all
the master from miles around send in their best pickers--and how
they'd work, sometimes pick the whole crop in one day! The one who
picked the most win a prize. Then come noon and the big feast, and at
night come the dancing.

Something like that when the corn was ready. All the folks have the
biggest time. Log rollings. Clearing the new ground for planting.
Cutting the trees, burning the bresh, making ready for the plow. The
best worker wins hisself a prize at these log rollings, too.

Them kind of good times makes me think of Christmas. Didn't have no
Christmas tree, but they set up a long pine table in the house and
that plank table was covered with presents and none of the Negroes was
ever forgot on that day.

Master Jess didn't work his slaves like other white folks done. Wasn't
no four o'clock wake-up horns and the field work started at seven
o'clock. Quitting time was five o'clock--just about union hours
nowadays. The Master believed in plenty of rest for the slaves and
they work better that way, too.

One of my brother took care of the Master's horse while on the
plantation. When the Master join in with rebels that horse went along.
So did brother. Master need them both and my brother mighty pleased
when he get to go.

When Master come back from the War and tell us that brother is dead,
he said brother was the best boy in all the army.

The Tenneyson slaves wasn't bothered with patrollers, neither the
Klan. The Master said we was all good Negroes--nobody going to bother
a good Negro.

We was taught to work and have good manners. And to be honest. Just
doing them three things