, mam, my old Missus sho took time to learn her niggers
right. Honey, both dese hands here was raise not to steal. I been cook
for heap of dese white folks bout here dat been left everything right
wide open wid me en ain' nobody never hear none of dem complain bout
losin nothin to dis day. No, mam, ain' nobody never didn' turn no key on
me. I remember, if my old Missus would hear talk dat we been bother
somethin dat didn' belong to us, she would whip us en say, 'I'm not mad,
but you chillun have got to grow up some day en you might have to suffer
worse den dis if you don' learn better while you young."

"Yes, mam, dat been a day. Dem niggers what been bred on Massa John C.
Bethea's plantation never know nothin but big livin in dat day en time.
Remember all bout dem days. Recollect dat dey would give all dey colored
people so much of flour for dey Sunday eatin en den dey had a certain
woman on de place to cook all de other ration for de niggers in one big
pot out in old Massa's yard. All de niggers would go dere to de pot on
Sunday en get dey eatin like turnips en collards en meat en carry it to
dey house en make dey own bread. Den in de week time, dey would come out
de field at 12 o'clock en stand round de pot en eat dey pan of ration en
den dey would go back in de field en work. When dey would come home at
night, dere would be enough cook up for dem to carry home to last till
de next day dinner. Didn' eat no breakfast no time. Had meat en greens
en corn bread en dumplings to eat mostly en won' no end to milk. Got
plenty of dat en dey was sho glad to get it. Cose dem what been stay to
de white folks house would eat to de Missus kitchen. En, my Lord, child,
my white folks had de prettiest kind of rice dat dey made right dere on
dey own plantation. Had plenty rice to last dem from one year to de
other just like dey had dey hominy. Den old Massa had a big fish pond en
in de summer time when it would get too hot to work, he would allow all
his plantation niggers to catch all de pikes en jacks dey wanted en salt
dem down in barrels for de winter. Didn' allow nobody to go nowhe' bout
dat fish pond but us niggers. En another thing, dey wouldn' cure dey
meat wid nothin but dis here green hickory wood en I speak bout what I
been know, dere ain' never been nothin could touch de taste of dem hams
en shoulder meat. Oo--oo--oo, honey, dey would make de finest kind of
sausages in dem days. I tell my chillun I just bout turn against des