s to eat, not only fer de white
folks but fer de darkies as well. And our barns carried feed fer de
cattle from harvest to harvest.

"De fattest of all de hosses, was Miss Ann's black saddle hoss called,
'Beauty'. Miss Ann wo' de longest side-saddle dress dat hung way down
below her feets. Somebody allus had to help her on and off Beauty, but
n'ary one of her brothers could out-ride Miss Ann."

Source: Phillip Rice (75), Kelton, S.C. RFD
Interviewed by: Caldwell Sims, Union, S.C. (5/7/37)

=Project #1655=
=Stiles M. Scruggs=
=Columbia, S.C.=

=_THE POT OF GOLD._=

Martha Richardson, who tells this story, lives at 924 Senate Street,
Columbia, S.C. Her father was an Indian and her mother a mulatto. She
was born in Columbia in 1860 and was five years old, when General W.T.
Sherman's Federal troops captured and burned the city in 1865.

"When I gits big 'nough to pick up chips for de cook stove, we was
livin' in de rear of Daniel Gardner's home, on Main Street, and my mammy
was workin' as one of de cooks at de Columbia Hotel. De hotel was run by
Master Lowrance, where de Lorick & Lowrance store is now.

"My daddy, like de general run of Indians, love to hunt but de game not
bring much cash in. My mammy often give him some change (money) and he
not work much but he always good to mammy and she love him and not fuss
at him, much. I soon learn dat if it had not been for mammy, we wouldn't
a had much to eat and wear. We go 'long lak dat for a good while and my
mammy have friends 'nough dat she seldom had to ask for a job.

"De game was so scarce dat my daddy sometimes make a little money a
showin' people how to make Indian medicine, dat was good for many
complaints, how to cover deir houses, and how to kill deir hogs,
'cordin' to de moon. He tell us many times 'bout de great Catawba
Indians, who make all deir own medicines and kill bears and dress in
deir skins, after feastin' on deir flesh. He was a good talker.

"You know, I sees so much 'skimpin', to make ends meet at home, as we go
'long dis way, dat I has never married. My mammy tell me: 'Honey, you a
pretty child. You grow up and marry a fine, lovin' man lak your daddy,
and be happy.' I kinda smile but I thinks a lot. If my daddy had worked
and saved lak my mammy, we would be 'way head of what we is, and my
brudders say so, too. But we fond of our daddy, he so good lookin' and
all.

"What de most 'citin' thing I ever see? Well, I think de Red