n' house on
de way back home.

"Marse Joe Glover was a good man and he never whupped his Niggers much.
His wife, our Miss Julia, was all right too--dat she was. Deir three
chilluns was Miss Sue, Miss Puss, and Marster Will. Marse Joe done all
his own overseein'. He used to tuck his long white beard inside his
shirt and button it up.

"Dat was a fine lookin' turn-out of Marse Joe's--dat rock-a-way car'iage
wid bead fringe all 'round de canopy, a pair of spankin' black hosses
hitched to it, and my brother, David, settin' so proud lak up on de high
seat dey put on de top for de driver.

"Dere warn't no slave, man or 'oman, livin' on dat plantation what
knowed how many acres was in it. I 'spects dere was many as 500 slaves
in all. Marster 'pinted a cullud boy to git de slaves up 'fore day, and
dey wukked f'um sunup to sundown.

"Jails? Yes Ma'am, dere was sev'ral little houses dat helt 'bout two or
three folks what dey called jails. White folks used to git locked up in
'em but I never did see no Niggers in one of dem little jailhouses. I
never seed no Niggers sold, but I did see 'em in wagons gwine to
Mississippi to be sold. I never seed no slave in chains.

"Some few slaves could read and write, and dem what could read was most
allus called on by de others for preachin'. Charlie McCollie was de fust
cullud preacher I ever seed. White folks 'lowed slaves to make brush
arbors for churches on de plantations, and Nigger boys and gals done
some tall courtin' at dem brush arbors. Dat was de onliest place whar
you could git to see de gals you lakked de best. Dey used to start off
services singin', 'Come Ye Dat Loves De Lawd.' Warn't no pools in de
churches to baptize folks in den, so dey tuk 'em down to de crick. Fust
a deacon went in and measured de water wid a stick to find a safe and
suitable place--den dey was ready for de preacher and de canidates.
Evvybody else stood on de banks of de crick and jined in de singin'.
Some of dem songs was: 'Lead Me to de Water for to be Baptized,' 'Oh,
How I love Jesus,' and 'Oh, Happy Day dat Fixed my Choice.'

"I hates to even think 'bout funerals now, old as I is. 'Course I'se
ready to go, but I'se a thinkin' 'bout dem what ain't. Funerals dem days
was pretty much lak dey is now. Evvybody in de country would be dar. All
de coffins for slaves was home-made. Dey was painted black wid smut off
of de wash pot mixed wid grease and water. De onliest funeral song I
'members f'um dem days i