heir thumbs for want of sumpin' to eat; mind you 'twas winter
time too.

Lots of de chillun die, as did de old folks, while de rest of us scour
de woods for hickory nuts, acorns, cane roots, and artichokes, and seine
de river for fish. De worst nigger men and women follow de army. De
balance settle down wid de white folks and simmer in their misery all
thru de spring time, 'til plums, mulberries, and blackberries come, and
de shad come up de Catawba River.

My mammy stay on wid de same marster 'til I was grown, dat is fifteen,
and Thad got to lookin' at me, meek as a sheep and dumb as a calf. I had
to ask dat nigger, right out, what his 'tentions was, befo' I get him to
bleat out dat he love me. Him name Thad Guntharpe. I glance at him one
day at de pigpen when I was sloppin' de hogs, I say: 'Mr. Guntharpe, you
follows me night and mornin' to dis pigpen; do you happen to be in love
wid one of these pigs? If so, I'd like to know which one 'tis; then
sometime I come down here by myself and tell dat pig 'bout your
'fections.' Thad didn't say nothin' but just grin. Him took de slop
bucket out of my hand and look at it, all 'round it, put upside down on
de ground, and set me down on it; then he fall down dere on de grass by
me and blubber out and warm my fingers in his hands. I just took pity on
him and told him mighty plain dat he must limber up his tongue and ask
sumpin', say what he mean, wantin' to visit them pigs so often. Us carry
on foolishness 'bout de little boar shoat pig and de little sow pig,
then I squeal in laughter over how he scrouge so close; de slop bucket
tipple over and I lost my seat. Dat ever remain de happiest minute of my
eighty-two years.

After us marry, us moved on de Johnson Place and Thad plow right on a
farm where dere use to be a town of Grimkeville. I was lonely down dere
all de time. I's halfway scared to death of de skeeters 'bout my legs in
day time and old Captain Thorn's ghost in de night time. You never heard
'bout dat ghost? If you went to school to Mr. Luke Ford sure he must of
tell you 'bout de time a slave boy killed his marster, old Captain
Thorn. He drag and throwed his body in de river.

When they find his body they ketch John, de slave boy, give him a trial
by six white men, find him guilty and he confess. Then they took de
broad axe, cut off his head, mount it on a pole and stick it up on de
bank where they find old Captain Thorn. Dat pole and head stay dere 'til
it rot down