er was a fine
cook and her battercakes would just melt in your mouth. Of course, you
know we had no stoves in those days and the cooking was done in open
fireplaces, in ovens and pots. Oh yes! We had a garden. There was only
one on the place and enough was raised in it to feed all of the people
living there.

"I don't remember eating 'possums, rabbits, squirrels and fish until I
went to Jackson, Mississippi, with Miss Rosa. There were plenty of those
meats in Mississippi and I was then getting old enough and healthy
enough to be allowed to eat them."

At this point, Mary insisted on serving lunch for her visitor, saying
that she had lived with white people and knew how to cook. After a
polite refusal, the story was continued:

"I was laughing at myself just the other day about those homespun
dresses and sleeveless aprons I wore as a child. I reckon that was a
sign you were coming to ask me about those things. I kept one of those
dresses of mine until my own baby girl wore it out, and now I am sorry I
let her wear it, for it would be so nice to have it to show you. We wore
just a one piece costume in summer and had calico and muslin dresses for
Sunday. Wintertime, I wore a balmoral petticoat, osnaburg drawers, and
er-r-r. Well, Jacob! I never thought I would live to see the day I'd
forget what our dresses were called. Anyway they were of woolen material
in a checked design, and were made with a full skirt gathered on to a
deep yoke. Uncle Patrick Hull--he was a deep slave belonging to Mr. A.L.
Hull--made all the shoes for Marse John's slaves. We all wore brass-toed
brogans.

"Oh, good! I should smile! A better man than Marse John never lived.
Nobody better not beat his slaves. Marse John was the postmaster. He
married Miss Sallie Eden, and everybody said she was mighty good, but I
never knew her for she died when I was a baby. Marse John and his wife,
Miss Sallie, had three children. They were: Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa and
Marse Allie. Miss Annie Crawford, who teaches in the school here, is
Marse Allie's daughter. She don't know me so well, but I know mighty
well who she is. I think I have already told you that Misses Fannie and
Rosa kept house for their brother, Marse John, after their mother died.

"Darling, please get this right: the plantation is a dream to me. If I
should try to tell you about it, I am sure it would be only what my
mother told me about it in the years long after the surrender. Whether
the planta