ld bring out the best basket.

At the end of the first school year it was clearly seen that we needed
two assistant teachers; but the question that puzzled us was, where
could they work. We had only one room and none of us had the money to
buy the lumber needed. But there was a saw-mill near by and finally I
sought work at this mill with the understanding that I would take my pay
in lumber if the people would agree to feed me. This they readily
consented to do. So I worked during May, June, July and August at the
saw-mill and took my wages in lumber. This enabled us to get sufficient
material to erect two of the rooms of our present Training Building. The
following October we opened school with three teachers and 150 students.
These two teachers had graduated at Tuskegee with me in '93. They were
Misses Ophelia Clopton and Rosa Bradford. They spent four years in the
work here and we never had two teachers who did more for the old people
in the community and who were loved more by them.

In the fall of '95 Mr. Barnes, who was also a member of the class of
'93, joined us, and has been connected with the school since then except
for two years which he spent in Boston.

In the fall of '96 another one of our class-mates, Julius Webster, a
carpenter, joined in our work here. We now had five teachers, all of
Tuskegee and all class-mates. I can never forget these old people and
these early teachers, for we all shared our many sorrows and our few
joys. No work was too hard for us and no sacrifice was too great.

Another Tuskegee student was with us almost from the beginning. While
Mr. Rivers did not graduate from the Academic Department at Tuskegee, he
finished his trade, Agriculture, there. Mr. Rivers has had charge of
our farm off and on since '95. I should say to his credit that he is in
charge today and last year he made the best crop the school has ever
made.

Thus far, I have spoken of the assistance given me by the colored people
and teachers, but no chapter about the founding of Snow Hill Institute
would be complete without a mention of Mr. R. O. Simpson, the white man
on whose plantation I was reared. Mr. Simpson must have known me from my
birth. I well remember that in '78 and '79 he used to stop by to see my
old grandmother when riding over his plantation. I think that my
grandmother prepared meals for him on some of these visits to the
plantation. I also remember that after the death of grandmother, when I
was s