laugh and say, 'Marse don't want waste none dis
syrup,' and he lick de syrup right off dat scorpion's body and legs.

"Lawsy me, I seen thousands and thousands sugar barrels and kettles of
syrup in my day. Lawd knows how much cane old Marse have. To dem cuttin'
de cane it don't seem so much, but to dem what work hour in, hour out,
dem sugar cane fields sho' stretch from one end de earth to de other.
Marse ship hogs and hogs of sugar down de bayou. I seen de river boats
go down with big signs what say, 'Buy dis here 'lasses' on de side. And
he raise a world of rice and 'taters and corn and peanuts, too.

"When de work slight, us black folks sho have de balls and dinners and
sech. We git all day to barbecue meat down on de bayou and de white
folks come down and eat long side de cullud.

"When a black gal marry, Marse marry her hisself in de big house. He
marry 'em Saturday, so dey git Sunday off, too. One time de river boat
come bearin' de license for niggers to git marry with. Marse chase 'em
off and say, 'Don't you come truckin' no no-count papers roun' my
niggers. When I marry 'em, dey marry as good as if de Lawd God hisself
marry 'em and it don't take no paper to bind de tie.' Marse don't stand
no messin' 'round, neither. A gal have to be of age and ask her pa and
ma and Marse and Missy, and if dey 'gree, dey go ahead and git marry.
Marse have de marry book to put de name down.

"One time Marse take me 'long to help tote some chillen. He done write
up to Virginny for to buy fresh hands. Dey a old man dat hobble 'long de
road and de chillen start to throw rocks and de old man turn 'round to
one prissy one and say, 'Go on, young'un, you'll be where dogs can't
bark at you tomorrow. Nex' mornin' us cookin' in de kitchen and all a
sudden dat li'l boy jes' crumple up dead on de floor. Law, we's scairt.
Nobody ever bother dat old man no more, for he sho' lay de evil finger
on you.

"Marse's brother, Conrad, what was a widdyman, come to live on de
plantation and he had a li'l gal 'bout eight year old. One day she in de
plum orchard playin' with a rattlesnake and Marse Conrad have de fit. De
li'l gal won't let nobody hurt dat snake and she play with him. He won't
bite her. She keeps him 'bout three year, and she'd rub and grease him.
One day he got sick and dey give him some brandy, but he die and old Doc
pickle him in de bottle of brandy. Dat gal git so full of grief dey take
her to de infirm'ry in New Orleans and den on