le Dave why were you so obstreperous?"

"Miss, you see I was the baby in the family a long time, as three
brothers born after me died in infancy. I was petted and spoiled, and
later on they had to whip it out of me.

"Of course the slavery question was fast drawing to its climax when I
was born. Already war clouds seemed to cast a shadow. While freedom was
not had in Georgia until 1865, I was hardly old enough to remember very
much about the early customs of slavery in pre-war days. We had
comfortable quarters in which to live. Our houses were built in long
rows, house after house. My father was carriage driver and foreman of
the other niggers. His title was B.N."

"Uncle Dave what does B.N. stand for?"

With this question to answer, Uncle Dave broke into a spasm of laughter,
bending double first, then rocking from side to side, all the time
laughing while I waited anxiously to know the secret. Then, throwing
his head back, he came forth with great emphasis--"Why, he was what we
called 'Big Nigger'." Then we both laughed.

"Uncle Dave what were the duties of your mother as a slave?"

"Every slave had his task, and my mother was cook for the family and the
weaver. All of the clothing was made on the plantation from cotton and
wool. The cotton was carded, spun and woven into cloth and died.
Likewise, woolen garments was made from the wool clipped from the sheep
raised for this purpose. All these garments were made right on the
plantation."

"Uncle Dave what did you do when you were a little slave?"

"Well, there was a whole drove of us little niggers. We had lots of
chickens, cattle, hogs, sheep, etc. I had to help get up the eggs, drive
cattle, open gates, go on errands for Marster, and Marster most always
took me on trips with him, letting me ride in the foot of his buggy. I
was his favorite little pet nigger."

"You must have been the Little Big Nigger, Uncle Dave."

"I was always pushing an investigation, so when Marse Mappin take me on
trips with him that was my favorite time to ask questions. I remember
one hot August day we were driving along, and I had already asked
numerous questions, and Marse had already told me to shut up. I remained
quiet for a time, but the temptation was too great, and while Marse was
wiping the perspiration off his bald head, I said, 'Marster, may I ask
you one more question?' 'Yes, what is it David?' 'If a fly should light
on your head wouldn't he slip up and break his neck?' W