colored folks cleaned out knee-spots in de cane breaks. Cane you know,
grows high and thick, and colored folks could hide de'seves in dar, an
nobody could see an pester em."

"You see it was jes like dis. Durin' de war, an befo de war too, white
folks make a heap o fun of de colored folks for alltime prayin.
Sometime, say, you was a slave en you git down to pray in de field or
by de side of de road. White Marster come 'long and see a slave on his
knees. He say, 'What you prayin' 'bout?' An you say, 'Oh, Marster I'se
jes prayin' to Jesus cause I wants to go to Heaven when I dies.' An
Marster say, 'Youse my negro. I git ye to Heaven. Git up off'n your
knees.' De white folks what owned slaves thought that when dey go to
Heaven de collored folk's would be dar to wait on em. An ef'n it was a
Yank come 'long, he say too, 'What you prayin' 'bout?' You gives de
same 'sponse. An he say, 'We'se gwine save you. We goin' to set you
free. You wants to be free, dont you?' 'Yessir, Boss!' 'Well den, Yank
say, come go 'long wid me.' Ain no use keep sayin' 'Please sir Boss,
I'll have to arsk my Master.' Yank say, 'what you mean, Marster? You
aint got no Marster. We's settin' you free.'"

"Sometimes dey takes a' tie a rope 'round you, and they starts ridin'
off but dey dont go too fas' so you walks behind. Sometimes 'long
comes another Yank on a horse an he arsk, 'Boy ain you tired?' 'Yessir
Boss.' 'Well den you git up here behind me and ride some.' Den he wrop
de rope all 'round de saddle horn. Wrops and wrops, but leaves some
slack. But he keeps you tied, so's you wont jump down and run away. An
many's de time a prayin' negro got took off like dat, and want never
seen no more."

"'Course ef'n you goes wid em, you 'member your trainin' and 'fore you
leaves de field, you stacks your hoe nice, like you was quittin' de
days work. Dey learned the little'uns to do dat, soon's dey begins to
work in de fields. Dey had little hoes, handles 'bout de size of my
arm, for de little fellers. I've walked many a mile, when I was a
little feller, up and down de rows, followin' de grown folks, an
chopping wid de hoe 'round de corners whar de earth was soft so de
little uns could hoe easy. Whoopee! Let dat dinner horn blow, and evy
body stacks dey hoes, nince, neat stacks standin up, and starts to
run. Some eats in dey own cabins, but dem what eats at de big house,
sets down at a long table, and gets good grub too! Evy night, our
Marster give us evy o