on from the bolls and putting it deftly into the poke. He can carry
his row equally as well as any of the six grandchildren. He has a good
appetite at meal time, digestive organs good, sleeps well, and is the
early riser in the mornings. He says the Negro half of his nature
objects to working on Saturday afternoon, and at such times his tall
figure, with a green patch cloth over the left eye, which is sightless,
may be seen strolling to and fro on the streets of Winnsboro.

"Well, well! If it ain't de youngun dat use to sell me sugar, coffee,
fat back and meal, when he clerk for Calvin Brice & Company, at
Woodward, in '84 and 'long dere.

"I hopes you is well dis mornin'. I's told to come to Winnsboro and gits
blanks for a pension. Andy Foster, man I knows, d'rect me up dese steps
and bless God I finds you. You wanna ask me some questions? Well, here I
is, more than glad to answer, if I can. Where I born? Strange as it
seems, I born right here in Winnsboro. My name set down in a book:
'Alexander-boy-mother, Hannah, wench of James Stewart'. Dat de way it
was read to me by Dr. Beaty, dat marry a Miss Cherry and live in Rock
Hill. If slavery had never been done 'way wid, dat would be my master
today, 'cause him lak hound dogs and I lak a hound dog. Dat kind of
breed got a good nose and make good 'possum dog. Marster Jim tell me one
time, dat de first dog sprung from a wolf, and dat fust dog was a hound
dog. Dat out dat fust dog, (must to a been a bitch, don't you reckon?)
come all dogs. I follow his talk wid belief, 'bout de setters, pointers,
and blood hounds, even to de fices, but it strain dat belief when it git
to de little useless hairy pup de ladies lead 'round wid a silver collar
and a shiney chain. Well, you don't care to hear anymore 'bout dat? What
is de question?

"My master at de fust, was Marster Jim Stewart and my mistress was his
wife, Mistress Clara. They have two chillun. I 'member Marster Jim and
Miss Lizzie; they live in a fine house befo' de war, 'round yonder close
to Mt. Zion College. My mother was de cook and I was de house boy. They
had a big plantation 'bout two miles out, sorta southwest of Boro, I
mean Winnsboro, of course, but de country people still call it Boro.

"On dat plantation was many two-room houses, brick chimneys in de
middle, for de plantation slaves. In de growin' season I go wid marster
every day, not to drive, too small for dat, just to hold de hoss, when
him git out and then I