To a cabin in a woodland drear,
You've come by a mammy's heart to cheer;
In this ole slave's cabin,
Your hands my heart strings grabbin;
Jes lay your head upon my bres,
Jes snuggle close an res an res;
My little colored chile.

Repeat Refrain.

Yo daddy ploughs ole massa's corn,
Yo mammy does the cooking;
She'll give dinner to her hungry chile,
When nobody is a lookin;
Don't be ashamed, my chile, I beg,
Case you was hatched from a buzzard's egg;
My little colored chile."

Repeat Refrain.

Dist. No. 4
Johnson Co.
William R. Mays
Aug. 2, 1937

SLAVERY DAYS OF GEORGE THOMPSON

My name is George Thompson, I was born in Monroe County, Kentucky near
the Cumberland river Oct. 8, 1854, on the Manfred Furgeson plantation,
who owned about 50 slaves. Mister Furgerson [TR: before, Furgeson] was a
preacher and had three daughters and was kind to his slaves.

I was quite a small boy when our family, which included an older
sister, was sold to Ed. Thompson in Medcalf Co. Kentucky, who owned
about 50 other slaves, and as was the custom then we was given the name
of our new master, "Thompson".

I was hardly twelve years old when slavery was abolished, yet I can
remember at this late date most of the happenings as they existed at
that time.

I was so young and unexperienced when freed I remained on the Thompson
plantation for four years after the war and worked for my board and
clothes as coach boy and any other odd jobs around the plantation.

I have no education, I can neither read nor write, as a slave I was not
allowed to have books. On Sundays I would go into the woods and gather
ginseng which I would sell to the doctors for from 10c to 15c a pound
and with this money I would buy a book that was called the Blue Back
Speller. Our master would not allow us to have any books and when we
were lucky enough to own a book we would have to keep it hid, for if our
master would find us with a book he would whip us and take the book from
us. After receiving three severe whippings I gave up and never again
tried for any learning, and to this day I can neither read nor write.

Slaves were never allowed off of their plantation without a written
pass, and if caught away from their plantation without a pass by the
Pady-Rollers or Gorillars (who were a band of ruffians) they wore
whipped.

As there were no oil lamps or candles, another black boy and myself
were stationed a