arse Lee Dalton's fob de s'renduh us slaves didn't nevuh
go tuh chuch. But young Miss'ud read de Bible to us sometimes.

Here in the five room, white painted cottage of his son, Frank, Unka
Challilie is kindly cared for by his daughter-in-law, Mattie. A front
porch faces the Mayodan hard road a few doors from the "coppubration
line." A well made arch accents the entrance to the front walk. A
climbing rose flourishes on the arch. Well kept grass with flowers on
the edges show Mattie's love. At the right side is the vegetable garden,
invaded by several big domineckuh chickens. A kudzu vine keeps out the
hot west sun. Unka Challilie sits on the front porch and nods to his
friends [HW: , or] else back in the kitchen, he sits and watches Mattie
iron after he has eaten his breakfast. Several hens come on the back
porch and lay in boxes there. One is "uh settin" fuh fried chicken
later! A walnut tree, "uh white wawnut", waves its long dangly green
blooms as the leaves are half grown in the early May. Well dressed,
clean, polite, comforted with his religion, but very "trimbly" even on
his stout walking stick, Unka Challilie often dozes away his "no
countness" with "uh napuh sleepin" while the mad rush of traffic and
tourist wheels stir the rose climbing over the entrance arch. An
ex-slave who started wiff nuffin de Yankees gave him, who lived on his
old Marse's place ontil he wuz forty-eight, who cleaned the Mayo Mills
ontill he wuz too trimbly to get amongst de machinery, who raised eleven
children on an acre of red Rockingham county hillside, faces the next
move with plenty to eat, wear, plenty time to take a nap uh sleepin.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320281]
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 386
Subject: JOHN DANIELS
Story Teller: John Daniels
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: No Date Stamp]

JOHN DANIELS
Ex-Slave Story [HW: (?)]

I'se named fer my pappy's ole massa down in Spartanburg, South
Carolina, course I doan know nothin' 'bout no war, case I warn't borned.
I does 'member seein' de ole 'big house' do', maybe you want me ter tell
you how hit looked?

It wuz a big white two-story house at de end uv a magnolia lane an'
a-settin' in a big level fiel'. Back o' de big house wuz de ole slave
cabins whar my folks uster live.

Dey said dat de massa wuz good ter 'em, but dat sometimes in de mo'nin'
dey jist has lasses an' co'nbread fer breakfas'.

I started ter tel